


Time After Time

by ujihun



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Attempt at Humor, Frenemies, Historical Inaccuracy, Immortals, M/M, Minor Angst, Slow Burn, Time Travel, enemies to friends to lovers (kind of lol), seodo are both emotionally constipated, they are also both kind of dumb sometimes, word vomit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:28:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 41,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26320408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ujihun/pseuds/ujihun
Summary: "A friendship between a time traveler and an immortal. Wherever the time traveler ends up, the immortal is there to catch him up to speed."Or, in other words, a man and another man pester each other no matter what year they happen to be in.
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Lee Seoho
Comments: 90
Kudos: 123





	1. 第一章

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i saw this writing prompt on facebook and a comment even suggested that it be "enemies to lovers" and my brain went "seoDO" and then next thing i know, i'm writing another fic even though i already have a million unfinished ideas staring at me :)
> 
>  **warning** that there are mentions of past injury and some blood, and that injury is touch based on during the flashback (the italicized parts); none of it is graphic but please skip it if you aren't comfortable reading it!!
> 
> unbeta'd, so all errors are mine!!

* * *

"Yah! You took way too long, I've been waiting for a good while," Seoho complains, although the cheeky look on his face shows that he's feigning his annoyance, that he actually isn't irked in the slightest.

  
  
  


The man is seated at the edge of the bridge Geonhak was crossing, and _oh, gosh,_ Geonhak can't help but think about pushing the other man over the side into the river. He imagines the sight of the man getting drenched in mossy water and bets it would be a delight to witness, but he holds himself back from doing anything cruel of the sorts.

Seoho starts to wave Geonhak over with one arm. His other hand places itself on his hip as he hops down from the bridge all light-footed and dainty.

  
  
  


"Come here, you need to change. I retrieved some clothes for you."

  
  
  


Geonhak merely grunts, ignoring and brushing past the other with a particular, purposeful shove.

He acknowledges his _hanbok_ isn't exactly of the times, especially as the elegant, traditional navy clothing on his body contrasts heavily with whatever checkered mahogany button up is tucked into the other man's waist-high pants. He eyes how Seoho's pant legs flow at the ankles, how they remind Geonhak of some sort of dress or long skirt, and he crinkles his nose.

Geonhak knows he stands out, that he should change, but when has Geonhak ever obediently listened to Seoho?

The man will eventually, sooner or later, change into the clothes Seoho brought him, but he won't be doing it now. He's never easily gone along with what Seoho tells him to do, rather preferring to get on the older's nerves by not abiding. So of course that's what he's going to do now.

  
  
  


"Rude," Seoho whines, whipping around to grab at the neck of the other's _hanbok._ "Seriously, come here, do you want people to stare at you, Geonhak?"

  
  
  


Geonhak chokes when the fabric catches at his throat and he nearly falls over when his shoe dares to slip against the wooden boards of the bridge. He stumbles and scowls, and turns to squint as menacing as he can at Seoho, who only greets him with a radiant smile of pure innocence.

  
  
  


"I doubt they would spare me a foul glance," Geonhak retorts when he finally collects himself, brushing off his _hanbok_ even though there was nothing on it to begin with. "They'll be staring at _you_ , if anything. You're - as you put it that one time - a fashion disaster."

  
  
  


Seoho gasps, eyes widening in offense as he instinctively looks down at his outfit.

He's been carefully watching the latest fashion trends, even if he himself doesn't quite understand it. He swears he's nailed the look of the newest trend, because so many men are wearing such outfits or at least something similar. Not to mention Seoho has always looked good in every outfit he's worn anyway, so he doubts he's a 'fashion disaster'.

  
  
  


"'A fashion disaster'? Geonhak, everybody right now is dressing like this! And how would you even know if I'm styled appropriately or not? You're wearing a _hanbok_ casually and no one here wears a _hanbok_ casually! Now _change_ , I took the liberty of finding clothing in your size so you better wear it," the older huffs, digging around the bag slung over his shoulder to fish out the said clothing.

  
  
  


He shoves the clothes roughly into Geonhak's arms, who exaggeratedly grunts at the impact as if Seoho's just shoved him with all the forces in the world. Seoho rolls his eyes before he starts shooing the other off of one side of the bridge, down the short hill, and down underneath the bridge for some privacy for changing.

Geonhak kicks some dust back all over Seoho's carefully shined shoes like a disgruntled horse and he hears Seoho shriek something unintelligible. He doesn't bother to listen as Seoho tries to scold him, turning his attention to undoing his _hanbok_.

The older huffs, deciding he'd rather not watch Geonhak change. He walks off to the side to idly stare at some long grass that blows in the wind, allowing Geonhak to take his _hanbok_ off and carefully fold it off to the side.

With these new clothes, it feels like he's in a wrestling match, trying to get these clothes onto his body properly.

(And oh, Geonhak sure knows what wrestling feels like when he's squabbled one too many times with Seoho.)

While he's relieved his top is just a simple white dress shirt underneath a cream-colored v-neck sweater, which is something that he's somewhat familiar to wearing during his past meetings with Seoho, the relief doesn't compare to the vast puzzlement when he sees his pants. Geonhak is no fashion genius nor a valid fashion critic but with the experience of different clothing he's tried on before, he isn't so sure he likes this style.

The pants are in a similar fashion to Seoho's, wide everywhere but at the waist, which as Geonhak pulls the pants over his legs, the waist happens to come up to his belly button just like Seoho's. The pattern on the pants are brown checkered - or plaid, as Seoho had corrected him once - and, much to his disdain, such a pattern nearly matches with Seoho's plaid shirt of a similar color.

He finds the pants overall unpleasant, and the idea of almost matching with Seoho also unpleasant. But then he recalls the last time he actually didn't comply with Seoho's orders to change and decides he'd rather deal with these pants than relive what had happened.

(That time, Geonhak had ran astray in his _hanbok_ , avoiding Seoho's fashion advices as if it'll cost him his life, however his choice of continuing to wear his _hanbok_ was probably what actually would've cost his life. His _hanbok_ at the time was of a pitch black color, and with his black hair and stone face, roaming around in the dark night, he was comically mistaken as a grim reaper.

Or, at least, it would've been comical if he hadn't risked his life.

He would rather avoid reliving the experience of getting injured over some simple clothes. It wasn't just the dark outfit that he has refused to change out of, but also such a unique case of paranoid parents who tried to end him before he 'tried to take their child to grave'.

Geonhak still shivers at the memory of being chased down like a fool, and how, shamefully, Seoho had to end up saving his ass from getting impaled with arrows and swords.)

  
  
  


"There," he hears Seoho say. "Isn't that much better? Now you look good."

  
  
  


Geonhak looks up over his shoulder from adjusting his collar to see the other's arms are crossed in an 'I told you so' manner, and a vein pops in his neck. He grumbles in response and retrieves his _hanbok_ back into his arms, stomping up to Seoho like he's some misbehaving toddler.

  
  
  


"I always look good," he argues as he comes to meet eye level with the other man, who smiles unbothered at him.

  
  
  


"Psh. That's rather ambitious of you, Geonhakkie," Seoho pokes fun at him, both verbally and physically as he jabs his pointing finger under Geonhak's ribs.

  
  
  


Geonhak yelps and swats the man's hand away.

  
  
  


"Don't call me that. _Gunmin-hyung,_ " he bites back, enunciating the syllables of the older man's former name on purpose.

  
  
  


"Seoho! It's Seoho now! You know I decided to change it back in 1856," Seoho cries, even though truthfully, he doesn't mind Geonhak still calling him Gunmin.

  
  
  


(Geonhak doesn't know this though, and Seoho swears to himself that he'll never tell the younger man that he's the only person he enjoys hearing his former name from.)

  
  
  


"Whatever. What year is this anyway?" Geonhak mumbles, looking around for any hints uselessly even though there's only grass and trees and the bridge around him.

  
  
  


"1947," Seoho replies. "I'd say you'll probably enjoy this timeline. It'll probably be far better than when you traveled to the Joseon era. Remember how—"

  
  
  


"Yeah," Geonhak interrupts, recalling the arrow from one apparent grim reaper appeaser guard that did manage to embed itself in between his shoulder blades. "Yeah, don't remind me."

  
  
  


Even though Seoho had brought it up as a start of a joke, it drops quickly as he seems to regret bringing it up. A miserable expression overtakes his face as he himself recalls the whole awful ordeal back in Joseon, and his forced smile falters into some strange half-cringe.

  
  
  


" _Aish_. What would you do without me," Seoho ends up sighing, bringing his thumb up to his mouth to bite at his fingernail.

  
  
  


Those words are familiar, but only to Geonhak. Seoho probably wouldn't remember it as well as him.

Geonhak knows he wouldn't have fared well without Seoho, specifically back in the Joseon era, because he had nearly gotten himself killed then. Additionally, that arrow that had hit him was particularly painful, and Geonhak had and still has no knowledge of tending to wounds.

Because he's a _time traveler_ , not a medic.

And Seoho is _immortal_ , thus he's had more than enough time to become knowledgeable in medicine. He's a man who's lived for far too many years, decades, _centuries_ , and that's given him enough time to build knowledge in far too many subjects, like sciences and mathematics, and including medicine and martial arts.

He's grateful of Seoho, he really is, but Geonhak is stubborn and somewhat emotionally constipated. It's not like he'll admit that any time soon, admit that he actually needs the immortal around, and so he lets out a fake annoyed exhale through his nose as he tails Seoho back up to the bridge.

  
  
  


_I'd be dead without you_ , is what he thinks.

  
  
  


"I'd be living stress-free without you," is what ends up coming out of his mouth.

  
  
  
  


"Mhm, okay. keep telling yourself that, Geonhak. Anyway, to more important matters," Seoho changes the topic, "I need to catch you up on what's happening right now, in 1947. Since, just like every year, many things have changed. So to start it off, did you know that..."

  
  
  


Geonhak zones Seoho out almost instantly. It's not on purpose, it really isn't. He just isn't interested at all.

But in actuality, even though he'll never say it out loud, he does like Seoho's voice. A lot. Geonhak has grown tired of his voice, the way the bass of it reaches so low, and it's one of many reasons why he isn't usually talkative. So to Geonhak, Seoho's voice is something else. It's so sparkly and bright and crystal clear, a refreshing spring on a cool night, the complete opposite of Geonhak's cave-like voice, and even if Geonhak isn't exactly retaining a single word the immortal is saying, he _is_ listening in his own way.

Again, will he ever admit this? No, never. Geonhak barely even admits he likes Seoho's voice to _himself_ , so dedicated in thinking - in _convincing_ himself - that he's against everything that involves Seoho.

He just likes hearing Seoho ramble on and on about facts that aren't too useful to Geonhak, just likes watching Seoho move his hands around expressively, as none of the information Seoho is dumping on him is retained.

It doesn't mean he likes Seoho. As a person. At all.

They're just friendly enemies. Kind of friendly. Kind of enemies. Some sort of friendly enemies.

  
  
  


"...so then there is this country that sits across the ocean, called the United States - they speak this language called English, which I'm having a hard time picking up on - and they're currently trying to..."

  
  
  


Geonhak has no idea what the United States is nor what English is, nor how they've managed to do something here in Korea when they're supposedly across the ocean, but he's too busy sorting through his disorganized thoughts to really care about the rest of Seoho's historical lecture.

He allows his mind to wander off once more, leaving Seoho to ramble on his own, but then his mind wanders off too far.

Geonhak can't help but think about the question again: _What would he do without Seoho?_

_What would have happened if Seoho were not there?_

_If Seoho_ hadn't _been there?_

He recalls his awful Joseon incident, the pain and the stress and the embarrassment all at once, the feeling of weakness and also the weight of how stupid he was. All of it is awful to think back to, but Geonhak finds he can't stop himself from bitterly reminiscing in it anyway. After all, it was only a few months ago for Geonhak, while it had been decades for Seoho. The situation is more fresh in his head and he presses his lips together guiltily as he eyes the back of the immortal's head of fluffy black hair.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


_A particularly pointy stone jots out of the pathway, dangerous and placed just perfectly and inconveniently among Geonhak's path. Just his luck, he runs straight into it, and he's sent flying forward and tumbling into the ground._

_Dirt is sputtered out as he tries to get the grimy taste out of his mouth, spitting in disgust. More dirt stains Geonhak's black_ hanbok _, much to his dismay, but it's the least of his worries as he tries to get himself back onto his feet._

_He feels like an idiot, barely managing to get his footing right, but then he keels over again when the most agonizing pain shoots up his spine._

_Geonhak had forgotten_ it _was there. Through his adrenaline, he was only barely aware of the arrow that landed a hit on him. But now he really feels it, feels how the arrow that's buried directly in the middle of his back stings, burns, more viciously than it could ever, and it makes Geonhak's vision blur out and in and back out._

_Someone is declaring something in front of him, the sight of their shoes coming into his vision, but he doesn't move from where he's doubled over. Geonhak remains on all fours, unsure of how he'll manage to explain that he is no grim reaper but just a mere man._

_(Or as mere a man as he can be for someone who's capable of time traveling._

_He figures it'll be futile, as he would just be condemned regardless, just as a witch instead.)_

_Geonhak feels stupid, traveling to a time where he thought he'd fit in due to the_ hanbok _still being in fashion. It's the Joseon era, people still wear_ hanboks _here, and so why was his refusal to change into something else still leading him to where he is now?_

_It's ridiculous, his life possibly going to end over him merely being too stubborn to change into the clothing Seoho had brought him._

_He just wore black, just a color, but there was some Joseon man in a high position that had a paranoia of black after some apparent encounter with an actual grim reaper, and that paranoia had ended up being rooted into his child._

_And Geonhak just had to be unfortunate enough to bump into said child, in which the child had cried immediately, thus alerting both his parents and their family guards._

_So here he is, bent over in the dirt with one of the high official's guards pointing a blade at his throat._

_...or, at least, it_ was _pointed at his throat, because then the sword is gone and Geonhak sees the guard suddenly fly off aimlessly like he weighed nothing more than a sheet of paper. The guard collides somewhere to the other side of the path and skids to a halt, where he doesn't move. Geonhak just stares blankly through hazy eyes, disoriented from what he hopes isn't from blood loss, and then he's suddenly yanked up and dragged in the direction of the forest that lays at the end of the pathway just up ahead._

_Geonhak doesn't need to see Seoho to know it's Seoho who's pulling him. He knows the softness of the immortal's hands, firm and strong but also somehow delicate, which contrasts from his own rough and calloused hands. Somehow, it draws out this delirious giggle from his lips, which, in his daze, slips out before he even realizes it._

  
  
  


_"You're laughing?" Seoho says when they finally stop somewhere deep into the woods._

  
  
  


_The immortal is struggling to catch his breath, his hands on his knees, his chest heaving. His long hair is a disheveled mess and his red_ hanbok _had apparently come half undone during their escape, one side hanging loose, nearly touching the ground._

  
  
  


_Seoho's head shoots up with a glare of angered, beady eyes that sends a shiver up Geonhak's spine. "You almost die because you decided to be stupid and not listen to me, there's an arrow still stuck in your back, and you're_ laughing _?"_

  
  
  


_Perhaps he's lost too much blood, giggling over their hand texture differences while in such a desperate situation like this. Geonhak feels pathetic, unsure of how to conjure a proper reply for the immortal._

_Maybe he's laughing at himself for being this stupid, for getting this injured just because he wanted to be stubborn._

  
  
  


_"Can you just help me please?" He manages weakly, avoiding the question altogether right before his knees give out from underneath him._

  
  
  


—

  
  
  


_Back at where Seoho lives, Geonhak bites his lip hard when Seoho applies an ointment that makes the wound sting. He's already had to endure the pain of when Seoho had to remove the arrow, and the ointment only makes the gash hurt all the more._

_Seoho starts wrapping a bandage around his chest and with Seoho's gentle touch, he starts to relax. He slowly gets used to the bite of the ointment, almost completely forgotten. At least, until the immortal wounds the bandage too tightly over Geonhak's wound._

_(So much for being gentle.)_

_The time traveler yelps, jumping up from where he's been kneeling._

  
  
  


_"Careful," The time traveler hisses._

  
  
  


_"Maybe_ you _should have been careful. You should have listened to me. Then you wouldn't have to worry about whether or not I'm being careful currently," Seoho scolds._

  
  
  


_For once, there's no joking tone to the older's voice and it makes Geonhak fall silent. Seoho is right, and so Geonhak, with no will to respond, allows his shoulders to droop. He just allows the older to finish wrapping up his back, only yelping one more time when Seoho finishes bandaging and slaps where the wound is._

  
  
  


_"Yah!" Seoho shouts, grabbing Geonhak's shoulders and turning him around harshly. "You scared the hell out of me! You're lucky I was there, Geonhak._ Aish _, what would you do without me?"_

  
  
  


_Geonhak just laughs weakly, hanging his head and allowing his long locks to fall over his face like a curtain. He doesn't want to look at Seoho's face now. Somehow, the expression on Seoho's face, though mostly unreadable besides the anger, makes Geonhak feel awful. And so he looks at the dirt instead, toeing pathetically at it with the end of his shoe._

_Any sort of words catch in his throat and refuse to come out and it makes him feel nauseous, sick, humiliated._

_He's grateful when Seoho apparently chooses not to push the topic any further, instead exhaling slowly and noticeably before he releases Geonhak and turns to silently tend to the fire that blazes next to the two men._

_Geonhak buries his face into the palms of his hands and squeezes his eyes shut._

What would he be without Seoho?

_To be honest, Geonhak feels he would be hopeless. Hopeless, very hopeless, and probably also very dead._

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Geonhak suddenly runs into something solid, snapping him out of his sentimental flashback, and he lets out a low _oof_. It takes him a moment for him to realize that the solid object he's run into is Seoho, who's stopped in his tracks, and he forgets all about the angst he was reliving.

  
  
  


"You're not listening. Again."

  
  
  


The tip of Seoho's nose is just centimeters away from Geonhak's own nose and he feels some foreign heat arise in his cheeks. He shuffles backwards and clears his throat awkwardly, averting his eyes.

  
  
  


"It's always about things I have no need to be informed on," Geonhak states as calmly as possible (which isn’t very calm at all). "You should be used to this."

  
  
  


The immortal's eyes narrow and he leans his head forward even though Geonhak's made a good distance in between them.

Geonhak thinks he might be imagining it, because he's no expert at noticing such things, but he thinks he sees a hint of worry in Seoho's eyes even underneath the judgmental guise.

But again, he might just be imagining it. Seoho doesn't actually worry about him, just as he doesn't actually worry about Seoho.

(Or so he thinks.)

  
  
  


"Okay, fine. Whatever," Seoho squints one last time before stepping back again. "There's been something else on my mind anyway."

  
  
  


Geonhak blinks. "Oh?"

  
  
  


Seoho stares at Geonhak piercingly, for far too long than should be comfortable, and then he proceeds to reach out an arm. Geonhak recoils uselessly and he jolts when the other’s fingers come into contact with his head. Hair suddenly tumbles over Geonhak's eyes, falling just down to his shoulders, as Seoho somehow perfectly unties Geonhak's top knot with only one hand.

  
  
  


"We need to cut your hair again," Seoho berates. "Seriously, how does your hair manage to grow this fast? I thought you were only going to return to Goryeo for two months, it looks like you spent a _year._ Were you lazing around _that_ much?"

  
  
  


Through the curtain of black locks, Geonhak can still see how Seoho has puffed his cheeks out and he subconsciously thinks it's actually quite cute.

_Wait, what?_

He quickly pushes that _scandalous_ thought to the back of his head though and pretends that his ears haven't just turned a deep red.

_Seoho isn't cute. Must have been some apparition possessing him briefly._

He pushes his hair out of his face, sputtering on some that catches in his mouth.

  
  
  


"I _did_ only spend two months," Geonhak insists, ignoring how hot his face has gotten. "It's just my genetics. My hair wasn't _that_ short before I left anyway."

  
  
  


"Stay still this time and maybe I'll be able to cut your hair properly. It's not my fault you always make yourself look stupid," Seoho retorts.

  
  
  


Geonhak admits he did fidget too much last time, and that his hair had ended up being cut a bit too long. It had also grown quite uneven because of his inability to stay still.

Will he say that out loud? As always, no.

  
  
  


" _You_ look stupid," he chokes out uncleverly.

  
  
  


Seoho rolls his eyes and snorts, flicks Geonhak's shoulder before turning around again. He starts heading down the grassy hill and Geonhak catches the sight of a small house that Seoho's seemed to be heading towards.

The small house sits just on the outskirts of a small town, not quite within the town but also not far from it either. There are sunflowers planted alongside the house and by the front door and he just knows the house belongs to the immortal as he recalls how Seoho had told him one time that he loved sunflowers the most out of all other flowers.

(Why and how he still remembers this? Geonhak has no idea. Totally no idea.)

Geonhak whines something about getting flicked and he exaggeratedly rubs his bicep like it had actually hurt, even though Seoho's walked a bit far from him.

He eventually figures that the other man won’t see his dramatic act and he sighs in defeat before starting into a jog to catch up to the immortal, who’s gone on to ramble on and on once more about new technologies of the 1940’s.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've never done a chaptered fic before (cue nervous laughter) but i'll figure it out i swear
> 
> i apologize if my pacing sucks but bare with me please (´-﹏-`；)


	2. 第二章

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize for any historical inaccuracies!
> 
> unbeta'd, so all grammatical errors and inconsistencies are mine

* * *

_There are tears slipping down Seoho’s face nonstop. His sides hurt as he grips them, only aching more and more with every passing moment. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t seem to stem the tears that continue to flow, dripping down to his chin and splattering onto the floor._

_He can’t see anything at all, his vision obscured by the endless crying, and at the sound of the familiar deep voice yelling at him, he only doubles over all the more._

  
  
  


_“Stop laughing!” Geonhak bellows, his hands balled up tightly into fists._

  
  
  


_Seoho can’t see through his laughter-induced sobbing, a permanent grin plastered onto his face. His cheeks hurt and his sides hurt and his stomach hurts, but the more he catches even one clear glimpse of the other, he only erupts into his millionth round of cackling._

  
  
  


_“I-I can’t,” Seoho manages to wheeze, futilely wiping at yet another set of tears with his palms._

  
  
  


_“Look what you did to me!”_

  
  
  


_Seoho merely replies with another round of guffawing. He almost looks like he’s dying, his face all red, collapsed on the floor gasping for air with tear streaks staining his face._

  
  
  


_“I_ _— I can’t see anything, but I know for sure that you look st-stupid,” the immortal howls, shutting his tear-hazed eyes._

  
  
  


_Never in Seoho’s entire life - and he’s lived a_ long _time - has he ever been this entertained before over something so small._

_And never in Geonhak’s entire life has he ever been this enraged before. Not even his entire Joseon incident - which was just very depressing and shameful, not infuriating - can compare to the fury he’s found himself completely doused in._

_All over a haircut gone wrong, but to him, his anger is rightful and valid. All his life, he’s known only those long locks that reach down to the middle of his back. Even if his long hair was a pain sometimes, he was so used to it, used to having to detangle the obstinate knots, used to the stray pieces of hair that would blow in his face, used to the struggle of doing a proper top-knot on his head when he needed to do so._

_Those long locks are gone but so is his dignity. Geonhak bets his soul that Seoho probably just blindfolded himself and went feral all over Geonhak’s head. He catches the sight of his reflection, his face snarling angrily; his hair is the worst he’s ever seen it, the side of his once long bangs are now drooping weirdly past his cheek while the other side curls awkwardly above his eyebrows. The rest of his head is just tousled immensely, sticking in short and uneven tufts._

  
  
  


_“You did this on purpose!” Geonhak wails._

  
  
  


_He tries desperately to flatten the mess on his head and Seoho’s laughed so hard that he’s actually gone silent. In fact, the man’s gone just about motionless on the ground, and Geonhak thinks maybe the immortal has finally ceased to be, well, immortal. Geonhak does catch the way Seoho’s chest heaves though, desperately trying to catch some air after all that laughing. And then after some time, rather disappointingly to the time traveler, Seoho clambers onto his feet and takes the deepest, most comical breath ever._

  
  
  


_“I think you look like a newborn chick. It's a good look on you,” Seoho says after a while, still wiping at another tear that slides down the side of his cheekbone._

  
  
  


_“Oh? Oh_ yeah _? Let me cut_ your _hair then, to return the favor,” Geonhak hisses._

  
  
  


_He lunges forward towards the slightly rusted scissors that have been sitting on the floor and Seoho lets out this ear-piercing scream, scrambling to get away._

_(Seoho is incapable of dying. Rather, he_ is _capable of dying, but not permanently. He always finds himself awake again in the next few hours or so of being killed. It’s both inconvenient and not, but this means that Geonhak could stab Seoho all he wants and it’ll get him nowhere.)_

  
  
  


_“You were moving too much!” Seoho screams, trying his best to defend himself as he tries to use the table as a getaway from the seething man. “You kept fidgeting! It isn’t my fault you ended up like this!”_

  
  
  


_“I kept fidgeting because you kept tugging at my scalp! It really hurt!”_

  
  
  


_Seoho dodges the scissors that fly dangerously close to his face, tucking the crown of his head under his fingers._

  
  
  


_“You’re being dramatic! Why are you trying to kill me! I don’t really feel like dying right now, blood is seriously_ so _hard to clean,” Seoho whines. “Just sit down and I’ll fix it!”_

  
  
  


_“I’ll fix your_ face,” _Geonhak jeers._

  
  
  


_Even as Geonhak somehow manages to get a hold of the scissors again, waving it around like a madman and circling around the table to get to Seoho, Seoho truly believes that the other is incapable of truly harming him. As menacing as Geonhak’s outer appearance can be, or as menacing as Geonhak’s flaming rage is, Seoho has seen the way Geonhak is really too soft for his own good. The man can’t even kill the creepy centipedes that invade the household, and he always tears up over the sad stories Seoho tells even if he hides it every time. So there's no way Geonhak actually has it in him to kill Seoho._

_It’s also really easy to calm Geonhak down, contrary to what most people probably think, with how Geonhak's rage reaches its absolute prime. Seoho has kept (and is still keeping) a mental list of bribes against Geonhak even if he doesn’t see the time traveler for several decades, and he picks out one of the bribes before whipping around and throwing his hand outward. Geonhak seems surprised by the sudden action, his narrowed eyes suddenly widening like a puppy's, and he skids to a halt, stopping just barely in time, his chest just centimeters away from the outstretched palm._

  
  
  


_“Tell you what, I’ll cook you any part of pork that you want. Any time you want for these next three months you’re staying with me,” Seoho bargains calmly._

  
  
  


_Geonhak raises an eyebrow._

  
  
  


_“Any?”_

  
  
  


_Seoho nods curtly. “Any. Just don’t kill me. Just let me fix your hair too. Even_ I _don't want you to walk around looking like that."_

  
  
  


_The scissor-wielding man pauses, his nose scrunching habitually as he ponders the deal. In truth, Geonhak doesn’t even need to think about it because the idea of having fresh pork, and any part he wants too, is just too enticing. Seoho, when he’s choosing not to create this experimental disaster of a dish, is actually pretty good at cooking too. The immortal’s food reminds Geonhak of the old lady at the corner of his small hometown who always invited him over for dinner when he was young._

_He bets he also isn't capable of fixing his on hair, and he doesn't have any money on him since he's always relied on Seoho, and so he_ needs _the immortal to fix his hair for him._

_Geonhak pretends to hesitate, presses his lips together, and pinches at his chin like he has to think about it just a moment more._

  
  


_“Okay, fine. Deal.”_

  
  
  


_He knows Seoho is no fool though, because the other’s had this insolent, triumphant smile on his face even before Geonhak could accept the bribe. It makes him want to_ really _utilize the scissors that are still in his hands but he wills himself down from a raging crimson to a cool lavender and stubbornly passes the scissors over to Seoho’s unfurled hand._

_Seoho knows he’s got Geonhak wrapped around his finger - he always does - and he gleefully plucks the scissors back and pulls the mulish younger man back to the chair that’s still surrounded by piles of clumped hair._

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


There are clumps of scattered hair all over the floor.

Pursing his dry lips (that he mentally notes he needs to apply lip balm to), Seoho takes a few steps backwards and leans back dramatically with his hands on his hips. A pair of cheap sheers dangle off of his middle and ring finger, and the metallic sheen catches under the flickering lights (that should probably be fixed) of Seoho's small house.

Geonhak finally gets to release the edges of the chair he’s been seated on. He’s been gripping on to the chair too tightly from having to conjure every bit of will within him to hold himself as still as possible. In most cases, Geonhak is very patient and composed, but somehow whenever Seoho comes into the equation, he finds himself antsy and fidgety to no ends. It’s been thirty minutes now and his knuckles have been stained white, and so he’s very relieved that he finally gets to relax his fingers again.

  
  
  


"There, much better," Seoho is saying, clicking his tongue in satisfaction.

  
  
  


Geonhak had only ever had short hair twice in his entire life: once, when he was a baby growing into a toddler, and the second when he had nearly murdered Seoho in 1821 over the catastrophe inflicted upon his head.

So since having a haircut shouldn’t be totally new to him, he shouldn't be having as many mixed emotions as he does right now while looking at his reflection in Seoho's smudged mirror.

His hair, in the two months returning back home to Goryeo, had regrown from an uneven fringe to hair that hung just a bit past his shoulders. It was a bit nice having long hair again, especially after that tragedy of a haircut, but now it’s been cut short once more, having gone from shoulder length hair to cropped bangs just above his forehead.

(Thankfully, he had mustered up everything in him to sit still, so Seoho’s trimming this time was a _million_ times more even and more symmetrical.)

His hair is way shorter than the 1821 disaster (that prompted him to self-consciously wear this ridiculous top hat most of the time), and way shorter than the hair he always dons back in Goryeo. Geonhak feels like he’s been shed of his skin, more bare and more prone to the cool air that wafts through the household, and it feels kind of _naked_. But somehow, he actually likes it (the haircut, not the naked part).

Geonhak allows himself to groom one hand over his head as he genuinely admires his reflection.

  
  
  


"I should be a hairdresser. I think I'm pretty good at this," Seoho whistles, still admiring his handiwork on Geonhak's head.

  
  
  


"When you've been blessed with a face like mine, of course I’ll look good," Geonhak counters.

  
  
  


Don't get Geonhak wrong; he actually isn’t very conceited, not even in the slightest, and if anything, he's actually _extremely_ modest in almost all possible ways. He honestly doesn't think he's all that special visually, but he knows narcissism is a pet peeve of Seoho's and Geonhak just _has_ to utilize this pet peeve against the other.

Watching how Seoho’s face twists into an expression of disdain, Geonhak knows he’s succeeded in aggravating him again and mentally counts a score for Time Traveler against Immortal.

  
  
  


"Self-centered bastard, maybe I should've just shaved your head," Seoho grumbles, turning away and throwing his hands up in defeat.

  
  
  


Geonhak snickers at how Seoho’s annoyance switches to panic when the scissors fly off Seoho's fingers and into the air. It’s comedic how the older man throws his arms out ridiculously and fumbles to catch the object before it hits the ground and falls apart.

(Why Seoho seems to have the cheapest, saddest pair of scissors in every new timeline, who knows why, but Geonhak sure finds it’s funny. A little dangerous since it comes near his head but still funny)

Geonhak turns his attention back to his short hair, still running one hand through it, and he gets caught up in the way the short but soft tufts tickle at his palm.

(His hair was never this soft before. Seoho must’ve performed witchcraft or something, because _wow_ , he actually did a good job cutting his hair this time.)

  
  
  


“That last time I had short hair only went poorly because of you anyway,” Geonhak blames, opposite to the praising thoughts in his head.

  
  
  


“You still remember that?” Seoho pouts.

  
  
  


“It’s only been two months for me,” Geonhak huffs. “Sorry you’re so old that you forgot already.”

  
  
  


“Old— _excuse me_?!” Seoho gasps.

  
  
  


Geonhak scoffs. While he happens to hail from the Goryeo Era, born specifically in 1367, Seoho’s never spoken of what period of time _he_ was born in. Seoho had to have been born at some point, because he's hinted many times to having a childhood many times before he stopped aging altogether, but he's still never specified how long he's been alive.

The most Geonhak knows is that Seoho had already been around since he had started time traveling. So, in other words, Seoho was older than Goryeo.

Seoho could even be older than time itself, but regardless of what era the man was born in, he really shouldn't be as appalled as he currently is over being called old.

  
  
  


“Old?! I’m not old! I’m at the youthful age of 24,” Seoho continues defensively.

  
  
  


Geonhak grins snidely. “Physically, sure, yeah. I'll give you that. But you’re about a thousand years old otherwise.”

  
  
  


Seoho opens his mouth to retaliate, but then halts to count his fingers as if he himself doesn’t even know how old he is - there's a chance he actually _does_ have no idea - and then he closes his mouth and pouts, sighing heavily through his nose.

"What? There's nothing to say because I'm right, aren't I?" Geonhak teases.

"Alright," Seoho mutters. "I'm old, fine. But aren't you supposed to respect your elders? I'm probably older than your grandparents!"

"Ah, my apologies, _ahjussi_."

" _Ahjussi_?!"

Geonhak's face drops when Seoho's face changes as well. The younger man is so convinced he can see the other's head start to smoke. It's like Seoho will combust into flames any second, his hands gripped tightly around the flimsy - flimsy but now deadly - pair of scissors that he's still holding on to.

An enraged Geonhak is far easier to tame than an enraged Seoho. Seoho might've been capable of stopping a Geonhak armed with scissors but Geonhak isn't so sure he's capable of stopping a Seoho armed with scissors.

"Okay, okay, _hyung_ , I'm sor—"

Geonhak doesn't get to finish his sentence because then Seoho rushes at him at a speed that probably isn't humanly possible. As Geonhak lets out a yelp, his feet getting swiped out from underneath him, he swears a vivid compilation of his life flashes before his eyes.

—

A very pitiful man sits at the corner of the bed he’s to sleep in, one leg pulled close to his chest. Geonhak sulkily nurses these two ugly welts on his right shin, which have started to blossom from a faint red to a plum color.

It was probably not the best idea to piss off an immortal with knowledge in many things, but there are times where Geonhak just doesn't think things through. He should’ve known that Seoho would happen to know the basics of several different martial arts, but he might have also been overconfident in being more muscular than Seoho.

It's unfair that Seoho usually has the upper hand in their arguments, but he really should've watched his mouth.

But it's too late, because Geonhak has paid the price, his ego shattered, and he pathetically watches how one of his bruises fades into a white when he presses down on it. He hisses at the touch, not really sure why he had even pressed down on it in the first place.

"Not so confident now, huh?"

Seoho stands at the doorway, a naughty look smeared all over his face. Geonhak replies with only a few grumbles before he mumbles out a low " _shut up."_

Surprisingly, Seoho obeys, falling quiet. He makes his way to the fussing man and, from behind his back, extends out this bag of… _something_. Geonhak raises an eyebrow questioningly, looking from the brown package up to Seoho.

“What?”

“It’s to ice those blemishes,” Seoho says.

Geonhak stares a bit longer, distrustful. The corner of Seoho’s lip twitches and he shoves the bag of (apparently) ice into Geonhak’s free arm.

“Oh my God, just take it, I didn’t do anything to it!”

The icy touch of the bag makes Geonhak jolt and he makes this unintelligible whine before he obeys to pressing the bag against his shin to appease the bruises.

“Gee, you act like such a child. Just tell me when the bag thaws out and give it back to me.”

Geonhak blinks. “What? Why? Don’t I just throw it away after it melts?”

“You better not,” Seoho huffs. “There are peas in that. That’s our dinner.”

_What the fuck?_

The brown bag looks up innocently at Geonhak as he gawks at it.

_Peas? The bag has peas in it? This is a bag of frozen peas?_

“... _Hyung_ , are you broke?”

Seoho looks a little sheepish, averting his eyes.

(Maybe it's just Geonhak's convenient luck, but he's always had an easier time finding a job for not only himself but for Seoho. Somehow, Seoho can't seem to land a job himself even though he's always been an excellent worker.)

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I've got plenty money."

The light in Geonhak's temporary bedroom flickers off, on, off then stays off.

"..."

"Okay. Maybe I'm broke."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternatively, user ujihun accidentally derails everything and then publishes it anyway
> 
> i hope it was okay though (＠_＠;) i'm still improving in writing
> 
> anyway please scream at me on twitter for being a mess thankyou, i love y'all


	3. 第三章

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know how to write i'm sorry  
> i also don't know how to manage my time
> 
> none of this makes sense so 😔 i mean none of what i've written makes sense and only makes sense of my head but have fun anyway lol
> 
> unbeta'd and i didn't really read through it so all mistakes are mine!

* * *

The sun peeks over the horizon, just barely visible above the hill that Geonhak had met up with Seoho just the day before. The sky is slowly fading from a deep blue into an apricot, illuminating the clouds in the sky just enough that they glow a luminescent yellow that almost looks surreal.

Geonhak's always enjoyed watching the sunrise because of these things, the pretty colors of the sky and the way the clouds quite literally glow, and this sunset might just be one of the most stunning ones he's seen in a while.

But alas, he has no choice but to skip out on this one.

He's far too distracted by the sounds of Seoho muttering incoherently under his breath as he paces back and forth around the kitchen. Geonhak groans - he can't enjoy this sunrise with Seoho disrupting its peace - and he grumpily sips at his tea that's gotten both too cold and too concentrated.

" _Hyung_ , can you stop?" Geonhak complains. "Why are you even panicking anyway? Aren't you good at words? Just go work for the newspaper."

Seoho adjusts his cheap knock-off fedora on his head, where it presses his dark bangs flat to his forehead.

Geonhak thinks Seoho looks ridiculous, and that the other also looks more like a young high school boy than a grown man, but he chooses not to voice out as to not subject himself to another round of getting his ass beat.

"You think I haven't already tried that, Geonhak? Because I did just that. And then they replaced me with some kid who's more outgoing than me," Seoho grumbles, who's now fumbling with the belt around his waist. "I barely lasted three months! Three! I don't know why being outgoing even matters, I'm writing a newspaper, not talking to people—"

Seoho cuts off to fidget more, apparently struggling to buckle his belt right after a few failed attempts.

"—God, I hate belts, I'm still awful at buckling these damn things."

"Hm. Sad," Geonhak responds monotonously, although truly, he does understand Seoho's annoyance with losing his job over something like that.

He himself isn't much of an outgoing person either. He's awkward and shy and the only people he could ever talk to back in Goryeo were either only the children or the elderly, but never someone of his own age.

He can taste Seoho's bitterness in his own mouth, imagining what it's like to get overtaken like that. Seoho is a good worker, but his luck with keeping a job is just the worst.

But Geonhak won't voice that, as per usual. He's too stubborn to admit he actually shows any sort of care or pity for Seoho.

"Jerk," Seoho huffs, moving on to adjust this worn-down vest that looks rather oversized.

The immortal somehow can't get the buttons right and Geonhak sighs.

He does see how stressed Seoho is, as the man constantly takes off his fedora to wipe nervous sweat off his brow before putting the hat back on again. And now he can't even undo the crooked buttons on his vest, growing more and more visibly frustrated.

Geonhak decides he should probably intervene before Seoho just tears the vest in half and he finishes the rest of his cold, sad tea, downing it like it's an alcoholic shot. He rises from the kitchen table and strides over to where Seoho is standing in the middle of the room so that he can help Seoho undo and then redo each button on his vest.

The way Seoho stiffens when Geonhak comes over doesn't go unnoticed, and even more so when Seoho stays rigid the entire time Geonhak helps him fix the vest buttons.

There really isn't a need for Seoho to be this uncomfortable with Geonhak, even though they're this weird duo of friendly enemies. Perhaps Geonhak is too close. That's what he thinks as he notes the way Seoho's breath tickles at his cheek. Or maybe the rigidness is just Seoho being too nervous, as seen with his struggle over his outfit. Geonhak chuckles regardless, telling himself the other's stress is humorous, as he moves Seoho's hands aside to adjust the final top button.

Maybe Geonhak is imagining it but he thinks he feels this slight tremor that's going through Seoho's entire body. He's not sure if he felt Seoho's heart beating just then, but he swears the immortal's heart was racing.

But he brushes the uncharacteristic stiffness aside even despite this queasy feeling that suddenly forms in the core of his stomach. He's not really sure how he feels about Seoho looking dumbstruck at him, but he tells himself Seoho is just queasy. That's all it is. So he takes a step back and ignores the way Seoho stares at him with unexpected wide eyes and the way it makes his stomach churn all the more.

(Maybe the tea had gone bad. That must be why his stomach is being like this.

Yeah.

That must be it.)

Geonhak thinks maybe he should just shake the feeling off. He's being ridiculous for no reason, he tells himself. Maybe he's just enjoying Seoho's stressing too much to the point he feels weird.

It's a good enough reason for himself, looking at Seoho nervously adjusting his fedora for the millionth time. Geonhak tells himself it's laughable, and not something he feels bad about, and so he goes to form a tease, intending to probe at Seoho's clear anxiety because he obviously and totally thinks it's entertaining.

But then, " _Hyung_ , stop worrying. I think you'll be fine," is what he says, his tone surprisingly more assuring than he wanted it to be.

Geonhak blinks, surprised by himself, his breath catching in his throat at the unexpected words that have left his mouth.

He sounds gentle. And genuine. And _fuck, what the fuck_ , did he just say that?

Seoho seems just as startled, his eyes growing from stressed crescents to full moons. Even the faintest of a red has dusted itself onto his cheeks, probably the most surprising thing of all.

It does something to Geonhak, the weird feeling returning tenfold, and he still isn't sure what it is other than that he knows he doesn't like it. It makes him feel like he's going to just buckle and melt, and he feels his face grow hot with the foreign feeling melded together with embarrassment. He hates it, his behavior and this feeling. So he panics, spluttering like a fool before he manages to come up with something.

"God, _hyung_ , do you not know how to wear clothes or what? Stop being a fool or you might as well go find a job as a nudist," Geonhak spits out quickly, mustering up as much bite in his words as he can, and he even throws in a nose scrunch to enunciate the fact he so very obviously dislikes Seoho.

Seoho's face falls and his wide eyes immediately narrows into a glare, scrunching up his own nose in disdain.

"Wow. _Wow_. And here I thought you were finally going to be nice to me for once," the immortal scoffs.

The forced snicker on Geonhak's tongue dies quickly at Seoho's glare, a sharp expression that makes him feel like he's going to experience an ass-kicking again. And he's both right and wrong because then an arm is lunging forward and abruptly grabbing a hold of Geonhak's collar. He yelps even before Seoho's fingers wrap around his collar and then suddenly Geonhak is getting dragged towards the door. He ends up stumbling over his feet, tripping over nothing but air, his arms flying forward aimlessly.

Geonhak opens his mouth to say something but Seoho seems to sense the complaint before he's even made a noise because he whips around just before they reach the front door.

"Do not say a word or I'll be giving you a third bruise, and this time it will be on your forehead," the immortal threatens, but then sighs deeply like he hasn't slept in over 24 hours. "Let's just go get ourselves some jobs or else we'll have to eat plain peas for dinner for the next week."

Geonhak forgets about the grasp on his collar and grimaces at the thought of the bland, unseasoned peas Seoho had fed him the night before.

(He really doesn't want to relive eating that. He'd rather eat dirt.

Somehow Seoho, who's not so bad at cooking when he wants to be, is so broke he doesn't even have the proper seasonings to salvage sad meals like a plate of only peas.

It makes Geonhak wonder what the immortal had been living off of - other than peas, of course - but it's totally none of his concern.)

"Okay, fine," Geonhak sighs, still grimacing as if he can still taste the tasteless peas in his mouth. "But let go of me first, _hyung_ , I'm going to choke."

"Psh. Drama queen."

—

There's a rather cool breeze wafting through the air. Geonhak finds that he likes it as it carries the sweet fragrance of spring over his shoulders and through his hair.

It reminds him of the flower patch he liked to visit in Goryeo. He hums to himself, recalling the hidden path he had to take through the forests before he made it to the flower patch. It was atop a grassy hill that overlooked his small town too, like a scene from one of the detailed stories told by the sweet old lady - Lady Park, he called her - that lived across from Geonhak.

He frowns briefly; he wonders how she's doing, if she's doing well, if she's fairing alright without him there to give her aid.

(Unfortunately, if Geonhak leaves Goryeo and stays in another timeframe for a week, per se, he then misses a week in Goryeo as well. But he isn't exactly capable of jumping around timeframes that easily - it's like there's a cooldown - so there isn't anything he can do about it.)

Another flowery breeze brushes over his head, combing through the short bangs on his forehead. The breeze smells like lavender, conveniently the favorite flower of Lady Park, who he can't help but currently miss.

Geonhak peers at Seoho, who's humming some aimless tune under his breath. He frowns all the more, not because the other man still hasn't gotten rid of his 'annoying' habit of humming or singing - although that does peeve Geonhak a bit - but because now it has him wondering.

He wonders.

Wonders how much Seoho misses Goryeo.

As a time traveler, Geonhak has the capability to go back. But only by himself, even as much as he'd like to try bringing someone back with him.

He can return back home, back to Goryeo. But alone.

Unlike Geonhak, Seoho will never be able to see Goryeo again.

So he wonders, and keeps wondering, that if Seoho still remembers everything back in Goryeo, just how much does the immortal miss everything that Geonhak can still return to?

* * *

_The instance Geonhak removes his hat from the crown of his head, a few strands of long hair peskily come undone from his top knot. He groans, nose crinkling when the hair strands tickle his cheeks. So he reaches upwards to just undo the top knot altogether._

_Hair tumbles down his shoulders, but his hat tumbles down as well, out from where he had tucked it under his arm, and it falls limply to the ground._

_"Ah—"_

_The hat begins to make an escape when a strong enough breeze blows by, and Geonhak finds himself running foolishly after his hat, hair billowing behind him like some elegant horse._

_Except he feels nowhere near elegant at all._

_He nearly trips over his own footing and makes several exaggerated staggers forward before he's able to balance himself again, but by then, he's trampled over his hat that's stopped in its path._

_Geonhak looks at the pitiful sight of his lopsided, crushed hat, the clear black now fettered unkindly with a grayish dusting of dirt. When he leans down to pick the hat up, hair continues to fall over his face and he grumbles when his vision gets obscured._

_He's brushing the hat off, but much to his dismay, it's to no avail, the dirt stubbornly refusing to rub off from the hat._

_"Quite a show you put on for me there."_

_Geonhak just about jumps when a voice suddenly interrupts his futile attempts to remove the dirt, and he whips around to find who the owner of the voice is._

_(If he could see, that is, through this thick veil of hair cascading over his face.)_

_"And quite a look you have there as well."_

_Geonhak moves aside a large enough clump of his hair to see a man standing a good distance away, his arms crossed and a smirk across his face._

_The man's top knot is tied far nicer than Geonhak's ever tied his own, however the man's own hat is slightly askew upon his head. His_ hanbok _is a very desaturated green, a color that would make the man blend in around the foliage around them, but the man has such a unique face that would make him stand out anyway._

_Geonhak's thought of himself to have feline eyes, but this man's eyes are very, very feline, sleek and sharp and turned upwards into mischievous crescents as he smiles at Geonhak with some sort of intent that makes him feel queasy. The man is, for sure, extremely pretty, but Geonhak can barely focus on that with how the man is staring him down coyly like he's some prey._

_"Who are you?" Geonhak asks stiffly._

_"Just a wanderer who happened to witness that near fall of yours," the stranger replies innocently, batting his eyelashes playfully._

_Something about this man's tone makes Geonhak's stomach curdle and he scowls, shoving his hand inside his hat to undo the dent he had accidentally dealt upon his hat earlier._

_"Well, carry on and pretend you never saw me do that," Geonhak grimaces and brushes his fingers through his hair as to properly get it out of his face._

_The nameless man's eyes sparkle deviously. "Wow, your voice is really deep."_

_"I have no will to listen to you if you're only going to make fun of me."_

_The corner of Geonhak's lip twitches and the stranger laughs lightly._

_"Mm, my apologies. I wasn't making fun of your voice though, it's rather nice. I do apologize though, but that scene you made was one of the most interesting things I've seen in a good long while, there was no way I wouldn't have commented on it," the man says slyly, apology sounding nowhere near sincere as he steps closer to Geonhak._

_He ignores the stranger and just fussily attempts to redo his top knot. The feline-eyed man simply watches, now a good distance closer, and with an even more amused look plastered onto his face._

_It's infuriating, and embarrassing, and Geonhak just wants to hightail it away from this man he doesn't know. But before he can even turn to leave, the man suddenly shoves his hand outwards._

_"Lee Gunmin," the feline-eyed man - or, apparently, Gunmin - greets, his fingers splayed as he holds them out as a greeting._

_Geonhak contemplates taking a hold of the other's hand. He narrows his eyes, rather suspicious that this man he doesn't know is suddenly introducing himself, but even with the clear mischief scrawled over Gunmin's face, Geonhak gets this sudden, strange air of security from him._

_It's weird, because he both distrusts and now somewhat trusts this total stranger. But he hesitantly, and finally, accepts the greeting and takes Gunmin's hand, in which the other's eyes noticeably brighten before Geonhak's hand is getting rattled too enthusiastically._

_Gunmin's hands are very soft, he subconsciously notes. Geonhak feels kind of bad since his own hands are riddled with callouses due to all the manual labor he does for Lady Park. He feels kind of bad that his rough hands have to come into touch with this hand that's alike to a baby's._

_"Uh, Geonhak. Kim Geonhak," he sputters rather weirdly, a bit unsure of why he's introducing his actual name to a man he's just met, and that he also doesn't really like._

_"Well, Geonhak-_ ssi _, thank you for allowing me to see that graceful scene from earlier," Gunmin says deviously. "It was an honor."_

_Geonhak immediately retracts his hand. Maybe Gunmin isn't quite harmful, but he doesn't quite seem harmless either. He doesn't know what he's getting himself into, and he doesn't want to further it, so he huffs and he plops his hat back onto his head sloppily even though he hasn't redone his top knot yet, his hair hanging down the sides of his face._

_"I just said to pretend you never saw it," he mutters._

_He goes to make his leave, brushing past Gunmin, hoping that this will be the end of it, but then Gunmin starts following after him, playfully skipping into a jog to catch up with Geonhak._

_The irritatingly bright smile flashes in Geonhak's face and he hisses like he's been blinded, quickening his steps to get away. Gunmin, of course, only hurries to match his pace. Several different ways to commit murder as legally as possible races through Geonhak's mind but he just shakes his head, hair tickling his neck as he quickly shuffles ridiculously back to his town._

_Gunmin silently but insistently tails him and it's just so pesky and invasive to Geonhak that he eventually can't hold it in anymore and he whips around. He's not very smooth though and he steps on the edges of his beige hanbok - this particular hanbok has always been a bit too big for him - and he flails his arms like a ruffled baby chick._

_Much to his surprise, instead of the ground catching him, it's a pair of arms. Geonhak's hat has floated to the ground again, and with the way Geonhak's being held over the ground, his hair hangs loosely out of his face behind him, almost brushing the dirt path. But he can't focus on the cleanliness of his hair when Gunmin's nose nearly touches his own._

_He almost goes cross-eyed but then he feels himself halt before he can try to pull away._

_God, up close, Geonhak hates to admit Gunmin is even prettier. Geonhak's never been so starstruck by a simple eye smile but here he is, cradled in Gunmin's arms like a forlorn baby. It takes him a moment to snap out of it - sort of, anyway - and realize just how humiliating of a position he's in with his 'savior' grinning down at him in an almost demeaning manner._

_He kind of wishes Gunmin had just let him fall and laughed at him instead, because he can only stare all the more at the sweet eye smile on the other's face, even though it's evident Gunmin just wants to tease him further._

_Geonhak tries to, instead, focus on any little flaw he can make fun of but he can't find any. He tries to look at this little scar right below Gunmin's left eye that he didn't notice earlier instead, or how even though the other's hair is tied up very tightly and nearly, he can still tell Gunmin's hair is quite thick and wavy. He sees the small faint mole on Gunmin's right cheek, and the two equally tiny moles to the left of his chin by that blinding smile of his._

_Unfortunately, none of those things are flaws. They're little things that actually make Geonhak feel more entranced, and also more so like a fool._

_Maybe he's been staring too long because Gunmin's smile only widens. Geonhak finally hollers and scrambles out of Gunmin's arms before the man can say anything. He gathers himself, though he's still scatterbrained, and snatches his hat off the ground once more._

_"I believe you may have a knack for falling, Geonhak-_ ssi _," Gunmin says sweetly. "Are you, perhaps, falling for me too?"_

_If Geonhak answers properly - especially because he wasn't expecting that sort of flirtatious comment - he just knows already that the other man will find a way to twist his words back on him, so he the only response he musters is a grunt._

_He's never met anyone who's irritated him after only knowing him for a few minutes, and he yearns to just make his grand escape away._

_But, as unfortunately expected, when Geonhak goes to just finish his trip back to his town, Gunmin is by his side again. He's skipping and humming this same random melody over and over like a child, even though he's a grown man (or so Geonhak thinks, he isn't so sure nor is he willing to ask)._

_—_

_Geonhak does eventually learn Gunmin's age anyway - 24, the man says, with both pride and some weird hesitance that Geonhak almost doesn't pick up on - and it surprises him. Geonhak just turned 18 four months ago, and so he's surprised because Gunmin looks a good bit younger than him. It irks him, too, because now this man can pull the seniority card on him, and Geonhak won't be able to do anything about it._

_He also learns that the lovely, elderly Lady Park across the street also happens to know Gunmin, and she seems to be delighted to see that Gunmin has come to visit. Geonhak feels this pang of jealousy over how Lady Park treats Gunmin more like a grandson than she ever treated Geonhak._

_(Or maybe he's just imagining things over his dislike of Gunmin. Lady Park is so, so good to him, like the grandmother and mother who were never quite there for him._

_Perhaps he's just jealous._

_He hopes that's all it is, anyway.)_

_And lastly, he learns that Gunmin's actually been around town for about a year, even though Geonhak's lived here his whole life, and he doesn't understand why and how he's never noticed the other man around the town before._

_But he doesn't really care, he tells himself._

_It doesn't matter because he ends up not seeing Gunmin again after that, even despite living in the same town, and much to his relief anyway._

_Such an encounter with the man was so embarrassing and agitating that Geonhak is glad that he'll most likely never deal with Gunmin again._

_(Or so he thinks.)_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i apologize again bc this is a hot mess)


	4. 第四章

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize that this chapter is shorter than the past 3!!
> 
> i don't think any of this is making sense, and this part was also supposed to be part of the last chapter (which is why it's shorter), but it's fine because i'm realizing i struggle with writing chapters more than 3-4k words, and it's a wonder i've even passed 10k overall
> 
> unbeta'd as always, all errors are mine!!

* * *

Geonhak recalls how he had thought he'd never have to deal with 'Gunmin', that he'd never have to deal with that pestering man's teases and jokes, and then he sulkily eyes Seoho, who he's somehow still ended up tolerating anyway throughout the timeframes he's visited. The immortal man's still humming, but a tad louder now, his steps even swaying ever so slightly to the tune; the tune sounds a bit familiar, and the more Geonhak thinks it through, he realizes it sounds a whole lot like this 1820's song that Geonhak liked.

(If he remembers correctly - and he _should_ , because he probably listened to it too often - the song was called _Stand By_. And he hates to even think of it, but as Seoho continued to hum, he can't help but think that Seoho's voice suits the song very well, as if it were made for him.)

Geonhak ponders a moment, going through his reminiscence over in his head, gritting his teeth subconsciously as he did so.

"Yah," He says before he even thinks out what to say.

Seoho keeps humming like he hadn't heard Geonhak speak at all. It's a bit irking as always, because the younger man knows the immortal heard him clearly.

"Doesn't the breeze remind you of something?" Geonhak asks anyway, disregarding the way the other man had ignored him.

Thankfully, this time, Seoho acknowledges Geonhak, his humming coming to a pause. It's quiet, relatively, except for the chirping from this insistent morning bird that flies above them. Geonhak unconsciously thinks that the bird is as noisy as when Seoho rambles on and on about the new technology of their current timeframe. He snorts quietly to himself at the thought.

The immortal turns around and begins to walk backwards, facing Geonhak with a questioning look on his face.

"Hm?"

Geonhak presses his lips together, somehow at a loss for words when his eyes meet Seoho's. For some reason he feels flustered, looking Seoho's face up and down, so he opts to look forward past Seoho at the city just meters away from them. He then decides there's no going back on speaking since he's already asked his question.

"It smells good. Is it familiar to you?"

"Mm? Somewhat, but not quite. Why?"

Geonhak ignores the way Seoho stares him down unwaveringly with those sharp, sleek eyes of his.

"It's lavender. It reminds me of Lady Park."

Seoho almost stops walking, the sound of his heel digging into the dirt path underneath them, and the mood shift and hesitation is very clear to Geonhak. Some sort of melancholy vaguely falls over Seoho's face and Geonhak holds his breath. Now he kind of regrets bringing it up.

He had forgotten that Seoho knows everything that happens in and to Goryeo. The immortal has lived through _many_ moments that Geonhak has not yet or moments that Geonhak will _never_ live through. But one of the moments Geonhak will have to face one day, that he hasn't yet experienced, would happen to include what would happen - what _had_ happened - to Lady Park.

In other words, Seoho has seen Lady Park die.

Seoho noticeably sniffs; Geonhak thinks maybe he's crying, but then the other man sniffs more, and he then realizes Seoho is just taking a good whiff of the air. He's still walking backwards, though his piercing his gaze as moved off of Geonhak. Then Seoho spins back around to face forward and clasps his hands together behind his back like an elderly man lost in thought.

"Ah. You're right," Seoho says, his voice sounding a little distant. "I forgot there wasn't a lot of lavender back at hom—" the immortal cuts off before quickly switching his words, "—back at Goryeo. You can bring back flowers for her, yes?"

If Seoho is upset, he's certainly trying his all not to show it. It makes Geonhak feel like he's the evil one for bringing the topic up, but he knows Seoho well enough to know that if he didn't want to talk about it, he would have made an attempt to switch the topic by now.

By the time the two men enter the city, the smell of lavender is almost immediately drowned out by the smell of far too many other things. Geonhak almost gets a sensory overload, picking up on the smell of strong coffee down the street - which makes him crinkle his nose - and the smell of a stranger's over-sprayed cologne as he walks by, and the pungent stench of gasoline from those vehicles - cars, they're called - that Seoho had rambled to him about when they were eating dinner last night.

"I can bring back flowers, yeah," Geonhak responds after an awkward moment, even though the conversation about lavender had seemingly passed.

"You'd have to steal off of the guy who owns the flower park first," Seoho retorts right away as if Geonhak hadn't taken a while to respond, much to the time traveler's relief. "He's not a very nice man last I checked," Seoho continues. "I saw him scold a small child for trying to so much as _touch_ a daisy."

"Oh," is all Geonhak says dumbly. "Didn't know people owned fields of flowers now, not to mention some as grumpy as that."

"He's such a miser. That man needs to eat some bread and just breathe for a while, ya' feel?" Seoho jokes.

Geonhak snorts, sticking closer to Seoho when a busy crowd of strangers brushes past him. But then Seoho turns a corner sharply, with no warning whatsoever, making Geonhak nearly run into a random pedestrian walking by who eyes him like he's a madman. He mumbles a quick apology - the random pedestrian doesn't even spare him another glance after that - and Geonhak goes to glare at the back of Seoho's head for being reckless as if hoping his eyes will be capable of shooting daggers into the immortal.

"We can go to a flower shop after we get ourselves some jobs, relax," Seoho says before Geonhak can complain, the immortal unaware - or probably just unbothered, as always - by Geonhak's glare.

"Oh," Geonhak sighs, abandoning his plan of complaining. "Okay."

"You're so slow, come on—" Seoho nags suddenly, his pace quickening. "The daycare is just up ahead. I don't think you would want to be late for your interview. Though I'm sure they'll hire you right away, since you have a handsome face—"

Geonhak chokes on nothing - _wait, what?_ , he manages to think even though his brain has been thrown into a disorganized cluster - and his eyes widen, threatening to pop out of his skull.

"—and you know I'm no good with kids," Seoho continues as if he hadn't just said what he said, as if he hadn't just shamelessly complimented Geonhak when all they usually do is throw banter around, "so I'll just find you after I try getting a job at the other newspaper company right across the street, okay?"

"I—" Geonhak sputters, still startled by the sudden compliment, his cheeks threatening to bloom into a bright crimson. He ends up giving up, finding no proper words to say. "O-okay. Yeah," he chokes out. Good luck, _hyung_."

Seoho stops right in front of the front doors of the daycare - the daycare has been painted a fresh coat of baby blue, and the daycare looks shorter than the building towering around it - and then Geonhak almost runs into the other. How smooth. The immortal turns to face him, amused as always by Geonhak's carelessness but doesn't comment on it, and he gives that brightening smile of his before throwing up a fist with his thumb up. Geonhak flinches by the action, as if expecting to get punched (which, honestly, would _not_ be completely unsurprising considering their strange, clashing dynamic of ' _friendly rivals_ ' or whatever they even are). When he sees the fist isn't going to make contact with any part of his body though, he relaxes and then grimaces, scrunching up his nose, utterly perplexed.

"Right. Forgot you don't know this yet," Seoho sighs, dropping his hand. "Okay, so, it's called a thumbs up and it means ' _good_ '. Like ' _good job_ ' or ' _good luck_ '. And on the contrary, thumbs down means the opposite. Got it?"

Geonhak lifts his hand, awkwardly folds his fingers into his palm and sticks his thumb out, and looks at Seoho for some sort of confirmation that he's doing it right. The other man inhales sharply, his cheeks puffed evidently as he tries not to laugh. Geonhak feels his entire body warm up in embarrassment but something stops him from saying anything about it.

"Good enough, I think you got it," Seoho laughs lightly - for some reason, Geonhak's stomach does a somersault at that - and the immortal returns the thumbs up once more. "I'll drop by later so we can get Lady Park some lavender together."

Before Geonhak can respond, the immortal then slaps his hand down on Geonhak's back. "Now go change some diapers or whatever you do in a daycare."

The younger man yelps, rubbing the lower of his back like it'll make the faint sting of the slap go away.

" _Hyung_ , that hurt!" Geonhak whines. "And gosh, maybe then I'll learn how to change _your_ diaper, you smelly baby," Geonhak grumbles.

It's Seoho's turn to sputter, unexpecting of Geonhak to bite back like that, even with the way they've always had this bickering dynamic.

"Wh— _y-yah_! Geonhak, what did you just say—"

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yell at me on twitter because i do not know what i am doing ♡ happy october by the way, it's spooky season™ y'all


	5. 第五章

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for mentions of death, it's minor nor serious but still worth mentioning. oh also kind of a depiction of anxiety as well, also worth mentioning that just to be safe!!
> 
> kind of tried something new, but not really, it's just a lot of jumping around flashbacks and current, i hope it's not confusing... ;;
> 
> unbeta'd as always, all mistakes are mine!

* * *

_Seoho himself has no idea how long he's been alive. All he knows is that it's been ages, a long time, maybe even lifetimes ago._

_(Or rather, not quite lifetimes, but he's definitely far older than his face and body portray themselves to be. While he remains physically 24, he knows he's just a bit older than the current era he’s living in._

_But that's it. That's the most he knows.)_

_Unfortunately as well, Seoho isn't quite sure how he had come to be, how he was born. He knows he was a child at some point, he remembers growing up until he plateaued at 24 - perhaps he even had parents, a family - but it's been so long that whatever family he could have possibly had is nothing but a lost, and blurry memory._

_It's something he'll never admit to anyone, but it hurts. It hurts_ a lot. _Seoho doesn't know and will probably never know why he, of all people, is immortal, in which everyone else is not. He doesn't understand why he's meant to outlive everybody around him. He doesn't understand why he's the one who's been 'blessed' - or cursed, as he puts it - with this inability to never age nor die._

_He doesn't like getting close to people because of this. They'll all cease to be one day, and he will have to watch them go. He doesn't want to experience that loss._

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


"Next," a man's voice from the office calls.

  
  
  


A confident, bubbly-looking teenager exits the office with a wide, confident, even devilish-looking smile on his face, and it makes Seoho's stomach churn. Because he bets he's going to be outshined once more by yet another extroverted kid for a job that doesn't even require social skills on a daily basis anyway.

Seoho goes to nervously grip at the ends of his vest but then a replay of Geonhak adjusting it for him goes through his head and he sighs. He'd rather not make a fool of himself more by making a mess of his vest when Geonhak had put up with his nervousness earlier. Geonhak had put the effort to button up his vest for him, while Seoho probably _still_ doesn't remember how to do it himself due to his stress. So he shouldn't nervously undo them now.

Instead, he drops his hands to his sides and enters the office rather stiffly.

The man at the desk has a pair of glasses sitting on his nose, and he's dressed like a typical elderly man of 1947. Except, surprisingly, he is _not_ an elderly man, not even close to it. If anything, the man is pretty young, or at least youthful, and he looks like he can only be a few years older than Seoho's physical age is.

Seoho nervously shovels out his folded papers from out of his vest - the papers that somehow haven't fallen out yet considering all of his fidgeting - and he mentally cusses at his inability to calm down when he eyes the tremor of his hands while he unfolds them.

Even despite Seoho's evident anxiety, the man smiles reassuringly at him and takes the papers before motioning with his pen for Seoho to sit down.

They sit in silence for a while, a silence Seoho both wishes will and will _not_ end, and he gnaws at his bottom lip as if it'll do him any better.

Even despite the years, decades, centuries, eras, and whatever else Seoho has lived through, he finds it more nerve-wracking than ever to face someone like this in order to get a job.

It feels like judgment time, as Seoho's profile gets looked through. Like every little thing about Seoho might either get belittled or accepted. As he gets determined whether he is good enough or not.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


_Even though Seoho cannot, and will never be able to die, he_ is _still a human. And even though he doesn't want to get close to anyone over the fear of facing that pain of losing them one day, he still craves relationships and social interaction and affection._

_So the next thing he knows - and he isn’t even sure how - he finds himself so strongly attached to the local elderly lady notorious for being the sweetest woman in the entire town._

_Lady Park, who treasures everyone regardless of their class, who makes clothes for the children around town, who owns the wisest stories in the world, becomes the first person Seoho has truly ever cared about. She becomes like the grandmother Seoho doesn't remember - or the grandmother he might not have even had at all - and with how she treats him like he is one of her own, Seoho grows worried with every passing month that Lady Park grows older. Because Seoho is afraid of losing the first and only person he’s cared about, the first person he’s truly loved as if she were his own blood._

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


"Lee Seoho," the man finally speaks, and the immortal's head shoots up.

  
  
  


He hadn't even realized he had spaced out, his gaze unintentionally directed at the other man's shoes behind the desk, and he sheepishly swallows.

  
  
  


"Yes?"

  
  
  


"Well, before I start, let me introduce myself! My name is Cha Hakyeon," the bespectacled man - Hakyeon - greets, reaching his arm across the desk.

  
  
  


Seoho provides a shaky smile and takes the greeting. Hakyeon gives him a firm shake and then a squeeze that Seoho can't identify as an action of comfort or intimidation.

(Even though he doubts the latter, his mind still tries to tell him there's no way it can be an action of comfort, even with how welcoming Hakyeon has been so far.)

  
  
  


"Don't worry so much," Hakyeon says, reading Seoho easily like a children's book. "I was in your place once, really, I understand that it's scary getting interviewed for a new job."

  
  
  


Seoho nervously smiles but it comes out more like a cringe, so he just presses his lips together again and nods slowly.

  
  
  


"And you're stressing more than you should be, really, Seoho- _s_ _si_. I don't even think you need to be stressing out at all! Your profile is probably, by far, the most outstanding one I've read today," Hakyeon continues, smiling brightly. "Also, don't tell anyone I said this," he whispers, "but I didn't like that last kid. He's smart, and energetic, but he's got his ego shoved too far up his ass, and I think I've had enough of overconfident people like that in my life."

  
  
  


It's like his walls of anxiety shatter and Seoho's cheeks puff out as he fails to suppress a chuckle. Hakyeon doesn’t seem as professional as he should be but it’s the carefree manner that makes Seoho start to relax. Hakyeon seems pleased by this, adjusting the glasses on his nose, which Seoho had noticed had been sliding off of his nose for the past few minutes now.

  
  
  


"I'm also glad you chose to work here at Daejeon Daily," Hakyeon says, his voice lowering into an even quieter whisper, as he dramatically leans across his desk again like he has to tell the biggest gossip of all time. "I have no idea why Taehong Newspaper fired you, considering your work experience and the example of your report is absolutely phenomenal, but I say it's their loss."

  
  
  


Hakyeon winks as humorously as possible, although his glasses nearly fall off his face again. Seoho laughs anyway, eyes crinkling so much it almost obscures his vision. He finds himself far less rigid than he was just a moment ago, and he's thankful that the other man's ability to make him feel better even despite them being strangers. He's also thankful that this interview is going far more smoothly than when he had interviewed and worked at Taehong Newspaper.

  
  
  


"I've been wanting to fire Moon-jo - he’s our features editor, but not for long - because I think that kid misspells at least one word in every new story, and on purpose too! He also keeps calling me old," Hakyeon groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm not that old, I'm 30, mind you— and what _really_ takes the cake is that he _also_ called Miss Eun-ah a witch, and she's literally the nicest among the entire staff. I think it's a given you easily get his job."

  
  
  


"Is this how it works?" Seoho raises an eyebrow, although he can't hide the happiness that's now bubbling in his chest over how easy this surprisingly is. "What about the other interviewees? And I... won't get fired for being shy, right?'

  
  
  


"What? Is _that_ what happened at Taehong? Oh, no," the older man denies, shaking his head a tad bit too excessively. "The other interviewees were awful anyway. Probably better suited for manual labor. No offense to them. Plus, I was actually going to fire Moon-jo after finishing all the interviews. I've had enough with him teasing everyone including me. Since I'm editor-in-chief, _as well_ as the boss, and you're the last interviewee, I say you get his job. Just like that."

  
  
  


"Ah— w-well, thank you," Seoho sputters, unsure of what to say, although he's smiling so widely he can't even see properly.

  
  
  


"Are you okay with starting now though? I have this itching feeling Jaehwan- _ah_ and Hongbin- _ah_ are slacking off - oh, they work the copy desk, by the way - and I love them to death, but I think they want me to grow some gray hairs. I'm sorry, Seoho- _ssi,_ " Hakyeon sighs comically, pressing one hand against the side of his head.

  
  
  


Seoho snorts. "Of course, I'll even do all the dirty work if I have to," he jokes.

  
  
  


Hakyeon laughs, though Seoho can now see the exhaustion scrawled all over the other man's face.

  
  
  


"Thank you so much, Seoho- _ssi_! Now if you excuse me, I have some asses to scold. After I show you around, of course. First of all, this is my office, so if you ever need me..."

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


_When Seoho learns of Geonhak through one of Lady Park's stories, the young man who lives across the street from Lady Park, he hates to say that he's jealous that Lady Park also favors another man like her grandson so strongly. He_ has _to see this man now, because as unhealthy as he knows it is, he feels the need to compete._

_Seoho knows it's greedy but Lady Park is the closest to family he's ever had in his entire long life. And for her to have another that she also treats like a grandson, it festers this bitterness in him, but he knows well enough not to let it control him._

_Kind of. Because he goes out of his way to see this Geonhak anyway._

_However, he's surprised when he actually sees Geonhak. The other man that Lady Park loves is clumsy, a mess, stumbling all over his_ hanbok _and his hat and tripping all over himself with a mess of hair flying all over the place. And the Geonhak guy is absolutely endearing, endearingly_ cute _, and it makes something boil in Seoho's chest._

_It's childish, he knows it, especially as he's supposedly physically 24 years old, and has lived far longer than that, so he should be mature, but Seoho decides he won't make life easy for Geonhak. He'll pester this man with everything he's got._

_Although, really, they don't meet much after that. So it's a plan he ends up forgetting about almost immediately after devising it._

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


"Hongbin— Hongbin- _ah_ , you're going to staple your fingers!" Hakyeon is panicking like some frantic parent, running over to one of the men at the copy desk, who's presumably Hongbin, considering the stapler dangerously hanging off of his fingers alongside a disarray of other things.

  
  
  


The other man at the copy desk, who could only be Jaehwan by process of elimination, is cackling so hard Seoho thinks he might combust.

He isn't so sure what he's gotten himself into, but even with the chaos before his eyes, Daejeon Daily is in competition with Taehong Newspaper as one of the best newspapers in the city, so he figures he should just deal with it.

Seoho can handle a little chaos anyway. If anything, he's a bringer of chaos himself, so he isn't in any place to judge the three men who are squabbling and shrieking before his eyes.

  
  
  


"Will you guys be quiet?! I can't focus on my work," yet another man hollers down the hallway.

  
  
  


Seoho just awkwardly stands there, a bystander to it all.

  
  
  


"Shut up, Wonsik! You aren't helping me tame these fools," Hakyeon complains.

  
  
  


"Uh," Seoho starts to speak up, but he gets interrupted when a fifth unnamed man enters and starts screaming high-pitched, effectively shutting up everyone around him.

  
  
  


Seoho's mouth forms an O, and he watches, perplexed, as the fifth man - who looks like the youngest, or at least around Seoho's physical age - scolds Hongbin and Jaehwan, who are frozen in place from where they've managed to pin poor Hakyeon on the ground. A sixth, cat-like man enters and calmly digs through some files, somehow unfazed by the mess around him as if it's a normal occurrence, and it _really_ makes Seoho what he's gotten himself into.

(Secretly, he hopes Geonhak is faring better than him. Not that Seoho isn’t enjoying himself right now. He’s actually rather amused.)

  
  


"Uh," Seoho starts again, shuffling to the stressed graphic editor a bit away from the chaotic scene. "Well, hi, I'm Lee Seoho, and I'm new, and uh, I can help with whatever you have— Wonsik _-sunbae_ , was it?"

  
  
  


The Wonsik guy looks at him with eyes that are practically glistening with plea - and maybe in adoration of a newbie worker being around - and Seoho takes it as a yes, awkwardly but sincerely laughing as he makes his way over.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


_It's fair to say that when the time he dreads most finally comes, when Lady Park passes away from old age, Seoho is - understandably and rightfully - very,_ very _devastated. Not only does he have to bury the only person he's ever cared for in his endless and still ongoing life, but now he has to move towns before the townspeople - the people who are strangers to him, whom he has no care for - catch on to his immortality and try to condemn him to death._

_(Even though it's impossible to kill him - he's faced death once, he knows it cannot end him - Seoho would rather not experience the pain of it again.)_

_It's also fair to say that Seoho is completely and utterly surprised when he finds himself face-to-face with Geonhak again._

_He had seen the younger man at Lady Park's final moments, and then never again after that._

_It's not the fact that Geonhak had seemingly fallen off the face of the earth that surprises Seoho._

_What surprises Seoho is that he's face-to-face with Geonhak nearly_ two hundred _years after Lady Park had passed away._

_And Geonhak looks the same as he always had_.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


"You ready to buy some flowers, baby chick?" Seoho says cheerily.

  
  
  


Geonhak raises an eyebrow and gives him a slightly offended look.

  
  
  


"You seem to be in a good mood. And _'baby chick'_? That's a new one. What, no _'idiot'_? _'Fool'_?"

  
  
  


"Would you rather I call you those names instead?" Seoho says, smiling sweetly.

  
  
  


Geonhak merely scowls in defeat, and Seoho giggles in triumph.

They walk in silence to the other side of town where the flower shop is, weaving through busy pedestrians and construction workers who are fixing a large crevice in the sidewalk.

  
  
  


"How was work? I suppose it went well since you’re in such a cheery mood."

  
  
  


Geonhak's voice suddenly says, genuinely warm and curious. It's Seoho's turn to raise his eyebrow, suspicious even despite the lack of foulness to Geonhak's tone and words.

  
  
  


"It was okay," Seoho finally answers after a while of eyeing Geonhak weirdly. "It was better than okay, actually. Got the job almost instantly somehow, got a good amount of work done, and I think I even got adopted by the other staff there."

  
  
  


Geonhak snorts. The younger man rubs at his shoulder, as he's been doing for the past while now, and Seoho eyes that questioningly but says nothing.

  
  
  


"What about you?" Seoho asks instead.

  
  
  


"Hm. It was okay. And I guess you were right. The head of the daycare hired me instantly because I have a good face or something," Geonhak laughs stiffly. "I'm flattered, but uh, I don't think this is how I should qualify for a job for kids. What if I was a bad person? An arsonist? A murderer, or a pervert?"

  
  
  


The two men sidestep as a child runs down the sidewalk with a panicking parent running after her. Seoho lightly slaps at Geonhak's shoulder, earning an annoyed grumble.

  
  
  


"But you aren't an arsonist, murderer, or a pervert. Unless you're hiding something from me. Which I sincerely doubt, you’re too soft for your own good,” Seoho teases. “You got a job, and you survived, so don't sweat it so much.”

  
  
  


"I don't think you have the right to say that when you anxiously sweat enough to fill up buckets this morning," Geonhak retorts.

  
  
  


"Yah! We're both employed and unharmed so it's fine, right?"

  
  
  


"Yeah," Geonhak mumbles. "Unharmed."

  
  
  


Seoho squints at Geonhak, who uncomfortably avoids eye contact.

  
  
  


"I love kids and all," Geonhak sighs, "but there was one rather naughty kid who latched his teeth onto my elbow. The daycare lady had to pry him off of me."

  
  
  


_So that's why Geonhak was rubbing at his arm, and still is_.

  
  
  


Seoho frowns and pulls Geonhak's hands away from rubbing the clothed bite all the more.

  
  
  


"I'm no doctor, but I don't think touching it is gonna do any good, Geonhak. Especially if that little demon drew blood."

  
  
  


"You might as well be a doctor with all the experience you have, _hyung,_ " Geonhak scoffs. "And no, the kid didn't draw blood. It's fine. It might just bruise or something."

  
  
  


Seoho sighs, and Geonhak subconsciously raises his hand to rub where the bite is again. The immortal has to slap the hand away, in which Geonhak yelps at the sudden hit.

  
  
  


"I'll pinch you if you touch it again. Stop touching it," Seoho berates.

  
  
  


"Whatever, Mom," Geonhak mutters. "God, you always hit me too hard…"

  
  
  


Seoho ignores the other's tone and complaints and instead, pulls Geonhak out of the way of yet another wild running pedestrian. Geonhak whines something under his breath once more but Seoho ignores that as well. He's more focused on the smell of all kinds of flowers from the shop that's just ahead of them now.

  
  
  


"Is that the flower shop?" Geonhak questions.

  
  
  


Seoho eyes the excessive decorative flowers littering the front and just inside by the windows of the shop, and then he eyes the big bold letters that display _'Yoo's Flowers'_ at the very top.

  
  
  


"Gee. I don't know, Geonhak, is it?"

  
  
  


Geonhak grunts, his face flushing in embarrassment, and he nudges Seoho roughly with his knee. He enters the shop before Seoho can attack back, and Seoho sighs loudly before pushing the door open as well.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


_"Wh— Gunmin? Why are you here? H-how are you here?" Geonhak stutters._

  
  
  


_Seoho has to look Geonhak up and down a few more times, as if to make sure the younger man is really there in front of him. And he is, the same sharp eyes, the same messy top knot, the same desaturated_ hanboks _, the same wide shoulders, the same small lips and habitual nose scrunch._

  
  
  


_"Yah, it's_ hyung _, I'm older than you. And I could ask you the same thing. Where did you go after…"_ after Lady Park's death _. Seoho grimaces, sharply inhaling through his teeth. He'd rather not say that. "Well, what I mean is, you shouldn't be alive."_

  
  
  


_"Neither should you!" Geonhak wails._

  
  
  


_"Geonhak, calm down—"_

  
  
  


_"I can't! How are you_ not _panicking?"_

  
  
  


_Seoho clears his throat. "Oh, I am panicking. On the inside."_

  
  
  


_He isn't lying, because seeing a familiar face two hundred years later is something totally new to the immortal._

_It grows awkward, Geonhak staring at Seoho like he's just grown a second head. Seoho kind of wishes that was the case. He thinks it would probably be easier to explain a second head than the immortality he's never explained before._

  
  
  


_"Uh," Geonhak starts off stiffly, but trails off again._

  
  
  


_Seoho notices the younger man is fidgeting like crazy, his fingers fiddling with something on his wrist._

  
  
  


_"Well, the thing is, I found this thing," Geonhak tries to explain, lifting the wrist with what looks like a bracelet or band of some sort latched around it._

  
  
  


_The device is black, except for this ominous, faint glow of cyan coming from this circular pad on the band. Seoho just stares, unsure of how to take in the sight of something that looks like it shouldn't even exist._

  
  
  


_"It… lets me time travel? Yeah," Geonhak continues. "It— I don't know. This is only my first time using it. And I suppose I have to wait a while before I can go back again. I think."_

  
  
  


_"Oh," is all Seoho says._

  
  
  


_Geonhak crinkles up his nose and tries to push back a loose strand of hair back towards his messy top-knot._

  
  
  


_"And what's_ your _explanation? What, are you capable of time traveling as well?" Geonhak goes to interrogate, squinting suspiciously at the older._

  
  
  


_"Mm, no, unfortunately not. Rather, I'm," Seoho hesitates in sharing his secret for the first time in his life, but he figures it's only fair when Geonhak's just shared information that seems to go against the universe's laws. "God, I have never had to tell anyone this before. But to put it simply, I'm immortal. I do not age nor do I die."_

  
  
  


_Geonhak looks surprised, but seems to consider his own situation with the time traveling band. If time traveling is a thing, then immortality shouldn’t be that big of a surprise. His face relaxes then, like he's just going to have to accept Seoho's answer._

  
  
  


_"Huh, and I was so sure you looked older too," Geonhak mumbles instead of a proper answer._

  
  
  


_It takes a while for it to settle that Geonhak had meant to insult Seoho, and the immortal scowls, throwing his arms up into the air._

  
  
  


_"We both defy what is humanly possible in this world and the first thing you do after discovering my immortality is to insult me?" Seoho scoffs. "I sure cannot want to outlive you."_

  
  
  


_"You'll never see that happen," Geonhak says back. "I'll just go places far away from you, Gunmin-_ hyung _."_

  
  
  


_"Go ahead!" Seoho snorts. "I'll be 24 forever while you'll one day reach your late sixties or so and realize that the universe has favored me more than it has favored you."_

  
  
  


_Geonhak falls silent, and Seoho considers if maybe he’s gone too far as Geonhak averts his eyes to look around._

_Although it's a whole new era now, Seoho thinks Geonhak has been rather lucky that he doesn't look out of place with his beige_ hanbok _. Even though the top knot is slightly foreign to Joseon, Seoho supposes it's far better than landing in the far future where he would truly look like an outsider._

  
  
  


_"Uh," Geonhak grumbles, his face flushing in what must probably be shame. "Okay, so…_ hyung _, I don't really know where to go. Our town isn't the same, so I've been sleeping in the forest for a few days."_

  
  
  


_"As you deserve," Seoho comments almost absentmindedly._

  
  
  


_Geonhak's forehead creases when he furrows his eyebrows in annoyance, but he otherwise doesn't respond to Seoho's bite._

  
  
  


_"Uh… But would it be alright if I ask you to just help me for a week? And then I'll go back in time. You won't have to see me again. Or, at least, current you won’t have to see me again. I'm supposed to help Lady Park pick some herbs next week, and I believe that's when this time traveling band finishes its cooldown. So you only have to take care of me for a week. Okay?"_

  
  
  


_Seoho opens his mouth to deny, because no way is he willing to house this man who's gotten on his nerves. But he observes the desperate look in Geonhak's eyes, even as Geonhak tries to mask it. But Geonhak is also subconsciously pouting, and_ God _, Seoho is so incredibly mad that the pouting is actually affecting him._

_So next thing he knows, much to his aggravation, it seems he's already agreed, because Geonhak is trotting after him as he heads down the path to his home._

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


"Welcome to Yoo's Flowers!" A man at the cash register greets, smiling widely.

  
  
  


His voice is deep - though not as deep as Geonhak's - and his eyes are fox-like, sharp and sleek similar but not alike to Seoho's.

  
  
  


"My name is Lee Seunghyub," the fox-like man continues, pointing proudly at a name tag pinned to the chest of his shirt, as if he’s excited to even have a name. "Are there any specific flowers you're looking for today?"

  
  
  


"Uh, y-yes, is there any lavender around here?" Geonhak stammers.

  
  
  


"Yes, of course! This way, please," Seunghyub states, pushing his way out from behind the desk to lead the two men to one corner of the shop.

  
  
  


Another man is squatting there with a pair of shears, trimming at the stems of these vibrant flowers the color of sunlight.

  
  
  


"Ah _hyung_ ," the man says when he sees Seunghyub leading the two awkward men towards the purple plants that sit right next to him.

  
  
  


"Hweseung _-ah,_ these two want some lavender," Seunghyub says.

  
  
  


"Is it okay if I ask for any other flowers that would complement the lavender?" Seoho adds.

  
  
  


"Yeah, no problem!" Hweseung pipes up, shuffling funnily over to the lavenders while keeping his squatting position. “Coneflowers grow similarly to lavender so it would be easier to take care of them together. African daisies grow similarly as well, and I think the yellow variety of African daisies would look nice next to either the lavender or the coneflowers. What do you think?”

  
  
  


Seoho glances at Geonhak for his opinion, but the lost look on the time traveler’s face only shows that he’s just as lost as Seoho is on flower talk. The immortal laughs awkwardly and just nods to Hweseung, even despite the fact that Seoho would much rather understand rocket science than flower names and meanings.

  
  
  


The bouquet, in the end, actually doesn’t look too bad. It’s rather pretty, actually. The coneflowers are pinkish, probably a lighter shade of fuchsia, and it pairs very nicely with the bright yellow of the African daisies, as Hweseung had said. They’re given a separate bouquet for the lavenders, as requested, and Seoho eyes the way Geonhak looks almost too excited as they pay for the flowers before thanking Seunghyub and Hweseung.

  
  
  


“You have to take care of those first, you know that, right? Your time travel cooldown isn’t for another five days,” Seoho says when they exit the shop.

  
  
  


Geonhak grumbles, holding the bouquets close to his chest as if they are his babies.

  
  
  


“I know that. I know how to take care of flowers,” the younger man retorts.

  
  
  


“Sure you do. You can’t even take care of yourself,” Seoho scoffs.

  
  
  


“You’re one to talk! All you have are peas in the fridge. I really do believe you wouldn’t have gotten another job if I hadn’t come by,” Geonhak says gratingly. “What are you gonna do while I wait for my cooldown again when I’m in Goryeo?”

  
  
  


Seoho goes to elbow Geonhak under the rib, but the younger has already seemed to ready himself for such an attack because then he’s twisting his body to shield the flowers from Seoho’s attack.

  
  
  


“God, you’re so dramatic,” Seoho derides after another moment of walking in silence. “I’ve lived lifetimes without you. It’s just that I have to babysit you for a few months because you insist on seeing every new timeline. A week is nothing.”

  
  
  


“Whatever, _hyung_. Remember when I first time traveled? Your house was a small hut in the middle of a forest that was falling apart. I had to help you put it back together, and I don’t think you would have if I didn’t accidentally find you.”

  
  
  


“Alright, I get it,” Seoho huffs. “Life doesn’t treat me well. Now caress your flowers in silence before I rip them to shreds.”

  
  
  


“But you paid for them with your mon—”

  
  
  


Seoho shoots a warning glance and Geonhak scrunches up his nose, annoyed but compliant.

By the time they make it back to Seoho’s house, the sun has almost completely disappeared over the hill, and as Seoho unlocks his door and shoves it open with his foot, Geonhak shuffles inside immediately to find some vase to put the flowers in.

  
  
  


“We can go grocery shopping with the money I have left tomorrow,” Seoho says through a yawn. “Are you willing to put up with some sad peas again?”

  
  
  


“I rather eat dirt,” Geonhak grumbles from these two separate, mismatched vases - Seoho didn’t even know he owned them - that he’s stored the flowers in.

  
  
  


“Oh, be my guest!” Seoho snickers delightfully. “Actually, did you know dirt can be nutritious? Dirt contains important nutrients that we, as people, lack, like—"

  
  
  


Geonhak groans in defeat, knowing he’s lost to Seoho’s rambling, and the immortal grins. Score for immortal against time traveler.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i accidentally made vixx out of character i promise i love them, they were my first ever group lol-
> 
> also i'm sorry if something doesn't make sense, i wrote this all in a random spur of motivation earlier and i also haven't slept- so if anything is confusing, just tell me and i'll explain and/or fix it!


	6. 第六章

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //crawls out of the deepest darkest depths of a cave like a very tired gremlin and hands you this mess
> 
> ok but i've been both unmotivated and overwhelmed with school (that i fail to do properly bc i can't focus lol) so i wasn't writing  
> but the thing is, i had a youngdo dream a few days ago which was unnaturally _spicy_ for me considering i'm aroace and also a prude  
> it wasn't like nsfw or anything just WHOA OKAY? OKAY???? and then i impulse wrote out 10k words in which most of it was written in the span of less than a day (in which i kind of scared myself writing stuff i'll literally never write again)  
> and then i figured i might as well have enough inspiration to complete my unfinished chapter that i haven't touched for like two weeks and here we are
> 
> ok anyway sorry, enough rambling, unbeta'd as always, so all errors are mine!

* * *

"Oh my God, just get up, _hyung_. You don't have work today, and I'm going back to Goryeo for a week starting tomorrow, so you might as well just come with me to meet the kids," Geonhak huffs.

  
  
  


"First of all, no. Why would I want to go anywhere with you?" Seoho responds immediately, voice heavily muffled from where he lays face down on his worn down secondhand couch. "Second of all, no. Kids don't like me."

  
  
  


"Kids _do_ like you. It's just that you're awful at knowing what to do," Geonhak points out matter-of-factly, somehow completely ignoring the first part of what Seoho had said.

  
  
  


Seoho shifts his head just enough to see how Geonhak stands over him with his arms crossed, casting a judgmental shadow onto him. Geonhak has a point, and Seoho hates that he's right, so he just buries his face back into the pillows, whines, and flails his legs despairingly in reply.

  
  
  


" _Hyung_ , you're even _acting_ like a child right now! How hard will it be to interact with the kids at the daycare when you're this childish?"

  
  
  


"I am _not_ childish! Plus, if I go, I'm going to be the next target for that one kid who bites you all the time!"

  
  
  


Geonhak opens his mouth, wavers for a moment, then clamps his jaw shut in defeat. His arms have been riddled with faint bite marks just over the past week, and he rubs at his forearms dejectedly.

  
  
  


"Okay... yeah, Dong-il is a biter. But he's a sweet kid otherwise, I promise he's an angel - most of the time - and I just—" Geonhak sighs, looking away from the immortal who's still melting into the couch. " _Hyung,_ you've been alive for like, probably over a thousand something years, and you still don't know how to interact with people, much less children. Can't you just come with me? You spend your free time either thinking too hard or not thinking at all at home, I think you would benefit more by coming with me to the daycare."

  
  
  


Seoho doesn't move, his face buried into a soft cushion. A moment passes that feels just a bit too long and it makes Geonhak begin to wonder if maybe the immortal has actually ceased to be for good.

Really, Seoho just needs a moment to think about it. A good long moment.

Actually having something to do instead of organizing his house, changing his mind, and then reorganizing it again? Definitely a plus. Seoho could think long and hard about his life but that's boring, as well as the fact there would be too much to think about anyway. Seoho could also go outside but he's definitely had his fair share of walking outside when he practically lived outside for the first half of his time in Joseon. So going out to do something actually new and productive doesn't sound so bad.

Meeting kids? That doesn't sound bad, actually. It really doesn't sound bad at all. Seoho likes kids, and kids like him, it's just that Geonhak is right and Seoho really doesn't know how to react when a kid wants to play.

But Seoho is hyper-aware of how anxious he gets in new situations - which is ironic considering how he used to easily brave more daring things in the very early past - and then the idea of going somewhere Geonhak? No. No thank you, not when Seoho and Geonhak bicker like a dysfunctional, toxic couple.

Eventually though, after weighing his options for a bit too long, Seoho makes up his mind - because Geonhak is right about him not doing anything productive at home - and Geonhak is notified that the immortal is still alive because Seoho flails his legs again, making a subtle groan before throwing himself into a sitting position.

  
  
  


"You know what? Fine. I'll go with you. Just this once, since you're going to abandon me for a week anyway," Seoho pouts.

  
  
  


He doesn't like the mischievous and triumphant smirk that forms on Geonhak's face, but he disregards it, waving it off, pretending he's unbothered. Of course, that doesn't mean Geonhak is going to leave him alone.

  
  
  


"You should probably tidy up first, _hyung_. Your hair is a bird's next, and you're wearing a stained t-shirt and shorts that are above your knees. You look as much of a mess as you did as when I encountered you in early Joseon."

  
  
  


Heat rises up the back of Seoho's neck, exasperated (and also very, very embarrassed) that Geonhak is already pestering and criticizing him when he's literally just stood up. Even worse as he recalls how Geonhak had conveniently bumped into Seoho when Seoho wasn't bothering to care for his appearance, and thus - quite literally - had twigs and leaves sticking out of his hair. There's no way he can deny he ever looked like a mess back then, and no matter how much he wishes he could erase that memory out of both Geonhak's and his own head, he cannot.

But he feels a lightbulb quite literally light up above his head as an idea blooms in his head and he smiles, the most sweet smile he can muster with every bit of sinister energy in him. Pretending like he's a bit shy, Seoho extends a leg out forward, daintily pinches the fabric of his shorts, and pulls on them scandalously by just the slightest bit to expose the skin of his thighs.

  
  
  


"Oh Geonhak, were you looking at my legs? Do you like them that much? I'm so flattered," He coos, batting his eyelashes innocently.

  
  
  


Geonhak's expression immediately drops from his earlier triumph, horror twisting itself into every little crease in his face. Seoho, though, doesn't miss the way Geonhak's ears quite literally glow red in a matter of seconds, a reaction seemingly opposite to the despair on his face. It makes Seoho's stomach churn, and maybe not in the way he wants. But Seoho giggles anyway, because it means he's won by getting a reaction out of the younger man, and he playfully wiggles his big toe that sticks out through this hole in his sock. Geonhak wails and throws his arms up, making this exaggerated escape like his life depends on it by scrambling comically towards the door.

  
  
  


"God, I hate you, why did I even ask— you know what, I'm just going to leave without you, you're so annoying," Geonhak complains, already halfway out the door.

  
  
  


"Ah, alright, have fun," Seoho sings, pretending to sit back down, cozying his butt into the cushions and then crossing his legs for added effect. "I'll just sit here like a good boy. With the house keys you do not have."

  
  
  


Seoho smiles innocently, even reaching over to one of his discarded coats to retrieve the keys so he can clink them together to add to tormenting Geonhak. It succeeds because the said man freezes, his fingers being the only thing stopping the door from closing fully. The time traveler slowly backtracks, stepping back into the house shamefully with his shoulders sagging, and Seoho catches a glimpse of how the redness of his ears have spread to the rest of his face. It makes Seoho snicker and Geonhak shoots a glare at him from the corner of his eye, although it almost looks like he might be on the verge of crying.

  
  
  


Geonhak barely even glances at Seoho before he sighs heavily, dropping his head in defeat so that his chin touches his chest. "Just hurry up and get ready," he mumbles listlessly.

  
  
  


Seoho merely flashes his winning grin and complies, jumping back onto his feet and cheerfully heading - or rather, skipping - to his own bedroom to change. The way he hears Geonhak give another annoyed groan rings delightfully in his ears like a catchy tune from his radio and he grins as he shuts his door.

  
  
  


—

  
  
  


"...Seoho _-hyung_ , I feel like I'm dropping _you_ off at the daycare. You look like a young school boy," Geonhak mutters, looking the older man up and down from the corner of his eye.

  
  
  


"I do not," Seoho retorts, although he's fully aware - maybe too aware - of his appearance.

  
  
  


Seoho is wearing an unbuttoned beige and brown plaid blazer over a white dress shirt buttoned all the way up to his neck, and he's even styled his dark bangs so that they're parted down the middle rather than hanging over his eyebrows. It succeeds in making him look more mature, less boyish. But then Geonhak miserably stares at the pair of black dress shorts that Seoho is wearing, the length stopping just a smidge above his knee, and then at how Seoho's white socks are pulled up to the middle of his shin like the actual school boys he's seen walk around the city and in the daycare in the past week.

  
  
  


"Well, you look confusing. Is that a better description for you, _hyung_? I genuinely have no idea how you managed to pick a look that's overdressed and underdressed," Geonhak criticizes, though he can't help but admit that Seoho somehow pulls off the look.

  
  
  


He can't really deny it; Seoho is handsome. How else would anyone pull off such an outfit that no one else is wearing? Not only that, Geonhak has never met anyone with such a smile and eye smile that would leave people as starstruck as he does. He's young - forever young, though no one but Geonhak knows this - and funny, and also very intelligent when he chooses to be. And though it's never really seen underneath slightly oversized clothing, Seoho is athletic, and his body is quite well-built (just not to the extent of Geonhak's muscles).

(Truthfully... Geonhak isn't sure what he thinks of Seoho's legs. Sure, they're pretty nice, pretty and pleasing to the eye and somehow free of any sort of blemishes, but it's not like he _likes_ them. If anything, Geonhak feels this queasiness at how free in the open Seoho's shins and knees are. Like they're just wide in the open.

...But perhaps that's just a culture difference from Goryeo and the 20th century. Geonhak shouldn't be so close-minded about something normal that he's probably just not used to.)

  
  
  


"Nice," is all Seoho says in response to Geonhak, seeming pleased with himself.

  
  
  


Geonhak grunts and rolls his eyes, increasing his walking speed as the daycare comes into his line of sight.

  
  
  


"I don't know why you styled your hair," he says. "It's a daycare full of hyperactive kids, not a romantic evening with a fair and beautiful maiden. Are you going on a date with Princess Gyeong-hye of Joseon and you just didn't inform me?"

  
  
  


Seoho scoffs, inhaling out of his nose, but Geonhak notes how Seoho uncharacteristically doesn't come up with some bite back. If anything, the corners of the immortal's lips twitch, like he can't hold that fake smile any longer, until he just drops the expression altogether.

  
  
  


"I... just wanted to look good," Seoho mumbles, subtly shrinking into himself.

  
  
  


Geonhak's hand stops from where it hovers just above the door handle of the daycare. The air grows heavy with the immortal's anxiety, the mood shifting from their earlier squabbling to the tension that's been brought on by Seoho's anxiety. Pedestrians walk by, brushing by the two men almost close enough that it might as well be a nudge. Geonhak eyes Seoho, who's started fidgeting with the lowest button of his blazer. He presses his lips into a thin line and pulls away from the door, instead turning and reaching over to pull Seoho's hands away from his fidgeting.

  
  
  


" _Hyung_ , relax," Geonhak sighs. "They're kids. What's the worst that can happen?"

  
  
  


"That kid, Jong-yeol?—"

  
  
  


"Dong-il," Geonhak corrects.

  
  
  


"Yeah, whatever, Dong-il," he says, correcting himself, "will probably bite my fingers off and then I will actually perish, and then some other kid will probably get traumatized and cry, and then chaos ensues—"

  
  
  


Geonhak looks like he's regretting even asking, grimacing in a conflicted manner.

  
  
  


" _Hyung—_ "

  
  
  


"—and then you'll have to somehow explain why we don't need to call the police about my dead body because I'll magically respawn anyway after like twenty minutes—"

  
  
  


"Seoho _-hyung_ , seriously—"

  
  
  


"—and then I'll—"

  
  
  
  


"Lee Seoho, shut up!"

  
  
  


Seoho blinks, his voice halting in his throat, startled by the sudden drop of honorifics. Geonhak looks startled himself, as if he hadn't expected himself to do such a thing either, and he splutters momentarily before he continues.

  
  
  


"Uh— _h-hyung_ , listen, you'll be fine. Stop overthinking for once," he sighs, trying his best to pretend he didn't just 'disrespect' Seoho (as if he didn't already do so on the daily).

  
  
  


He then reaches over to ruffle up Seoho's hair, undoing all the work the immortal had spent styling it, and it's almost an affectionate action if not for Geonhak nearly shaking the other's head.

  
  
  


"Yah—"

  
  
  


"Also, your hair looks better unstyled. You'll thank me later anyway, the kids are going to ruin it themselves."

  
  
  


Seoho mumbles something alike to gibberish, fidgeting with his now ruined bangs that have returned to hanging over his eyebrows in wavy clumps, but then he offers Geonhak this half-smile half-grimace that makes him look like he needs to sneeze. In truth, the immortal isn't so sure if he's flattered or offended, and it's not like he can ask if it was a compliment or an insult because Geonhak doesn't really seem to care anymore, already done with the conversation and turning back to push the door open. Seoho sighs and reluctantly tails Geonhak into the daycare, his hands quivering at his sides as he holds himself back from fidgeting with his blazer again.

  
  
  


"Oh, Geonhak- _ssi_!" A lady, who Seoho notes is presumably in her early to mid 40's, greets Geonhak almost immediately, moving from behind the front desk to greet Geonhak directly. "You're here early!"

  
  
  


"Hello, Miss Kang," Geonhak greets.

  
  
  


"No need to be so formal, you've been here for a week already! Oh, the kids will be so happy to see you here sooner than usual," Miss Kang says cheerily before turning to look at Seoho, still smiling widely. "And who's this, if I may ask?"

  
  
  


"Ah, that's my... friend. His name is Lee Seoho," Geonhak fumbles, realizing he's totally untrained on how to properly introduce Seoho.

  
  
  


At this, Seoho stiffens slightly, conflicted on how he feels about being called Geonhak's friend. In truth, he kind of likes it. Lee Seoho, Kim Geonhak's friend. It has a nice ring to it, he thinks, but then he recoils, as if such a title also disturbs him.

He has to remember Geonhak is lying too. It's easier to just say they are friends to avoid any sort of unnecessary and complicated explanation.

  
  
  


"I just brought him with me for today, if that's alright with you, Miss Kang," Geonhak continues.

  
  
  


Seoho bows briefly and smiles as nicely as he can, though he grips his hands together in an effort to stem the nervousness literally radiating off of his fingertips.

  
  
  


"Of course it's alright with me!" Miss Kang says maybe a bit too vibrantly but still genuinely sincere, and she takes one of Seoho's hands and grasps it gently. "It's very nice to meet you, Lee Seoho _-ssi_! Your name is lovely, by the way, I haven't heard it before."

  
  
  
  


_That's because I chose it myself_ , Seoho can't help but think.

  
  
  


"Y-yeah, nice to meet you," he stutters awkwardly, though he offers yet another of his best smiles in order to come off as polite as possible.

  
  


Miss Kang smiles so brightly her eyes crinkle, almost alike to how Seoho smiles, but there's something familiar to it that Seoho can't quite put his finger on. But he shrugs it off, deciding it probably isn't anything significant if he can't remember it, as she leads the two men towards where the kids are.

  
  
  


—

  
  
  


A child cozies himself up in Geonhak's arms just about immediately and Seoho awkwardly watches from where he's huddled himself in the corner of the room. The child's eyes drill into Seoho, glaring through long lashes as if possessive over Geonhak, and Seoho doesn't know what to do except offer this shaky smile.

  
  
  


"Dong-il- _ah_ , say hi to Seoho- _hyung,_ " Geonhak says softly to the young boy cradled in his arms.

  
  
  


Dong-il mumbles something under his breath and clutches onto Geonhak's right bicep, and Seoho just nervously laughs.

  
  
  


"Come on, Dong-il, don't be shy."

  
  
  


"I don't think he likes me," Seoho says.

  
  
  


"I doubt that," Geonhak says back, but he doesn't seem so sure himself.

  
  
  


And then without any further warning, Dong-il latches his teeth onto Geonhak's forearm and he yelps, apparently having let his guard down a bit too much. Seoho can't help but snicker, bringing his fingers up to cover his mouth (though it doesn't really do much but aid in making him look more devious).

While Geonhak tries to urge Dong-il to let go of his arm as calmly as possible, Seoho sighs deeply and eyes the other kids in the room. Some of them occasionally look over at him, expressions unreadable despite being only children, and Seoho tries to smile as nicely as he can at them. But all of them just look back at whatever toy they were messing with or they continue to stare at him with large eyes, bug-eyed for no reason, just as kids tend to do.

  
  
  


"Geonhak, I don't think any of these kids like me," Seoho mutters when it looks like the other man has finally managed to get Dong-il to stop biting him.

  
  
  


"They're just shy," the man says, pitifully rubbing his forearm. "Just like how you're shy. Just talk to them."

  
  
  


"I don't know if that'll work," Seoho says, but Geonhak's already turning his attention to this girl who's suddenly started a temper tantrum.

  
  
  


Seoho grimaces; he likes kids, but they aren't his forte, and especially not when they're wreaking havoc.

But he made the choice to come with Geonhak's stubborn ass, and he should probably make the most of his time there.

He crawls out from the corner and scans the room - the children are doing anything, doing their own thing, some of them playing with each other while other's mind their own business - and his eyes land on a particular boy who sits isolated in the corner opposite from the corner Seoho had claimed.

The boy looks a little older than the other kids, maybe around eight or nine years old, but not quite hitting his double digits yet.

  
  
  


"Hey," Seoho awkwardly says when he approaches the kid, putting on his nicest smile.

  
  
  


He stays on all fours, crawling a bit goofily, but afraid standing may come off as intimidating, and he supposes it works in the end because the kid looks up at him with a neutral but wide-eyed look on his face.

  
  
  


"What's your name? What do you have there?"

  
  
  


The kid looks back down at the crayon he's got gripped in his hand and then at the drawing notebook placed neatly on his lap.

  
  
  


"I'm Seonyul. And I'm drawing," the kid replies, looking up once more to meet Seoho's eyes.

  
  
  


"You're really good, Seonyul- _ah_ ," Seoho praises, scooting over to sit next to the boy. "I'd say you're better than me. What are you drawing?"

  
  
  


Seonyul looks up, eyes falling on Geonhak, who's managed to calm down the crying girl enough that now both she and the biting kid are cradled in his arms.

  
  
  


"Don't tell anyone, but it's for Geonhak- _hyung_ ," he says. "Sometimes my mom is busy and I have to stay here longer, and he waits with me, so I wanted to make him something."

  
  
  


Seoho can see it now, eyes dropping to the boy's drawing. Geonhak's sharp eyes, short dark bangs, and the brightest of smiles that contrasts heavily with the frowns Seoho only gets from him. Seonyul stands next to Geonhak, notably shorter, and there are speech bubbles drawn between them, however they're empty.

  
  
  


"Neat," Seoho marvels at the drawing, almost sounding choked up with emotions that he doesn't even understand where they've come from. "What are you guys talking about?"

  
  
  


" _Hyung_ is the one who does all the talking, actually," Seonyul smiles, calm but notably more bright-eyed.

  
  
  


Geonhak? Doing all the talking? Seoho is so accustomed to squabbling with Geonhak that he realizes they've never really had a proper, in-depth conversation.

  
  
  


"He tells me stories about all of his adventures he's been on with his friend," Seonyul continues and then looks up at Seoho with hopeful eyes. "You're his friend, right? I saw you come in with him."

_...Friend? Geonhak says I'm is his friend?_

Seoho blinks in surprise, chest fluttering like he's just been praised highly and even more so than when he was introduced to Miss Kang, and then eventually nods excessively, smiling so hard that his eyes disappear into arcs.

  
  
  


"Yes, that's me," Seoho huffs, pointing at himself dramatically with his thumb. "The one and only Lee Seoho. I'm his _hyung_ , did you know? I've actually had to rescue him many times, he isn't as tough as he may look."

  
  
  


Seonyul giggles and puts his crayon down, his interest shifting to Seoho. He sets the drawing down as well and leans in with his cupped hand against Seoho's ear as if he's about to tell the immortal his biggest secret.

  
  
  


"Yeah, I agree. Don't tell _hyung_ but I think he just pretends to be tough," he whispers. "He looks scary but he's _way_ too nice."

  
  
  


Seoho laughs lightly at that, glancing briefly at Geonhak. Seonyul is right, for sure. Geonhak looks scary, stoic, stone face with a wide, toned body and a tall stature, but Geonhak is really too soft on the inside.

_Hell_ , he's literally cradling two young children in his arms, smiling softly and warmly as Dong-il talks to him about something that Seoho can't quite hear due to the sounds of some kids screaming during their game of tag.

  
  
  


"You're right. He really is too nice. Maybe too much for his own good," Seoho says fondly.

  
  
  


"Do you think he'll like my drawing though? I messed up a little and I don't know what to write," Seonyul asks a bit dejectedly, looking down at his drawing.

  
  
  


"It's a very good drawing, Seonyul- _ah_! I'm sure he'll love it," Seoho commends. "And maybe you can draw a heart? There isn't a lot of room to really write much so I think a heart would be nice."

  
  
  


"Oh!"

  
  
  


Seonyul's face lights up at the idea and he fumbles around for his red crayon, focusing very intently as he carefully etches a heart into both of the speech bubbles.

If Seoho could melt over a drawing, he really would. It's just so darn _cute,_ little crayon Geonhak and even littler crayon Seonyul standing side-by-side, speaking hearts to each other. How could he _not_ melt over that?

And… now Seoho finds himself staring at the heart that Geonhak says. It's just a simple symbol, but now he's fixated on it for some reason.

His own heart is beating a bit too loudly in his ears, looking at Geonhak for probably the millionth time. Geonhak laughs that high-pitched genuine laugh of his - one that's never been directed at Seoho unless Seoho's being tormented - and the immortal swallows thickly.

  
  
  


_Lee Seoho, you fool._

  
  
  


"He'll definitely love it," Seoho says quietly, watching as Seonyul lifts his finished drawing up proudly against the light. "He'll love it a lot."

  
  
  


—

  
  
  


Geonhak admires the drawing for the millionth time that night, effectively neglecting the dinner Seoho had bothered to even make for him. But Seoho really doesn't blame him, because the drawing is _adorable,_ and now he's a bit jealous even though he's only just met the endearing kid.

The fondness in Geonhak's eyes makes Seoho kind of hurt. Or at least he thinks he's hurt, because his chest aches with this foreign feeling that he's never experienced before.

  
  
  


_Bet my ass it's just heartburn or something_ , he thinks half-jokingly.

  
  
  


The longer Geonhak stares at the drawing, the more Seoho feels the need to ruin Geonhak's happiness.

(That's what he's always been there for anyway.)

  
  
  


"If you keep staring like that, you're going to end up drooling," Seoho jests.

  
  
  


Geonhak's face immediately falls and he glares at Seoho, who giggles innocently.

  
  
  


"You're just jealous no one drew you anything."

  
  
  


Seoho _is_ jealous but he knows it's unreasonable to be envious over a case he can't help.

  
  
  


"Because none of those kids even know me," he says.

  
  
  


Geonhak grunts. He can't really argue with that, when it's only Seoho's first time visiting the daycare.

He eventually goes back to picking at his food - fried vegetables, the best Seoho can do for tonight - before he sets his fork back down.

  
  
  


"You did a good job though," Geonhak suddenly says.

  
  
  


He sounds serious, his voice soft and careful but with sincerity that makes Seoho feel strange.

  
  
  


"Nah. I did awful. Dong-il didn't like me," Seoho huffs, also picking at the vegetables on his plate.

  
  
  


The food tastes like nothing to him, even though he's so sure he had carefully seasoned them.

  
  
  


"Dong-il did like you, he just didn't show it," Geonhak insists. "He told me he liked your smile."

  
  
  


Hesitantly, Seoho looked up, raising his eyebrow in skepticism.

  
  
  


"No way."

  
  
  


" _Yes_ way. And you also befriended Seonyul, he really looked happy talking to you," Geonhak continues.

  
  
  


Seoho nibbles at a piece of sad broccoli on his plate.

  
  
  


"Did he?"

  
  
  


Geonhak nods.

  
  
  


"He did."

  
  
  


Seoho sniffles a little - curse his allergies - and he pops the sad broccoli into his mouth in one go. He chews for a while then swallows, taking the time to think about how he's not actually as bad as he thinks he is at doing things.

Admittedly, he's still scared to get attached. But it's already too late for that, already so fond of the boy he's just met. He admires how behaved and well-mannered Seonyul is at such a young age, especially considering Seoho has vague, blurry memories of being the total opposite when he was a child all those centuries ago.

He likes Seonyul, and he also likes how Seonyul makes Geonhak look like some proud dad as Geonhak, once again, looks down at the drawing.

  
  
  


"Well, you better watch out," Seoho huffs, shoveling the last few stir-fried vegetables into his mouth. "I might just steal your job while you're gone."

  
  
  


"You?" Geonhak snorts. "Look at you. You'll get mistaken as a child."

  
  
  


"At least I'm not stupid like you," Seoho bites back. "You're really bad at managing your time. Why even time travel when you promised Lady Park you'd help her a week later? Now you have to go back and make it harder for me. Then I have to find you by the bridge and clothe your butt properly before someone thinks you've come out of a historical play."

  
  
  


"I didn't really think about it," Geonhak grumbles stubbornly, pausing to chew on a carrot.

  
  
  


"As if you even think at all," Seoho teases.

  
  
  


He snickers when Geonhak tries to kick him from underneath the table, missing and hitting his socked toe against the table leg instead.

  
  
  


"Serves you right," Seoho cackles as Geonhak whines, pulling his knee against his chest to nurse his poor toe.

  
  
  


"God, I'm never coming back from Goryeo," Geonhak mumbles under his breath, but loud enough that Seoho could still hear.

  
  
  


Seoho snickers and, after depositing his plate into the sink, he glances briefly at the drawing on the table.

While Geonhak internally cries a bit longer over his foot, Seoho takes the drawing and holds it against his cheap refrigerator. Geonhak looks simultaneously offended and also confused when Seoho slaps a star-shaped magnet over the drawing, displaying the artwork nicely.

  
  
  


"There," Seoho says, satisfied. "Now you can look at it whenever you come into the kitchen."

  
  
  


The corners of Geonhak's lips turn up slightly and Seoho has to urge down the fluttering feeling in his stomach again.

  
  
  


"Thanks, _hyung_ ," Geonhak says quietly.

  
  
  


It's so soft, gazing at the drawing with adoration. Seoho's stomach flip flops even with his attempts to ignore it and he musters up an awkward hum as a response.

He turns his attention to the sink, ready to wash his plate, when Geonhak's own plate comes into view.

Seoho stares at him in disbelief as Geonhak leans in closely - uncomfortably close - to place the plate into Seoho's hands.

  
  
  


"Thanks for washing my dishes," Geonhak grins at him deviously, and Seoho feels the man's breath tickle his face.

  
  
  


He feigns disgust, lurching to the side away from Geonhak, but undeniably, he feels overwhelmed over how close the time traveler had gotten.

So close he can feel the man's heater of a body radiate warmth onto him. So close that, again, his breath was touching Seoho's face.

Geonhak laughs at his recoil and Seoho kicks blindly at him before the time traveler can notice Seoho's ever-so-slightly reddening face.

  
  
  


"W-whatever, stinky. Go brush your teeth."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //laughs weakly and crawls back into my cave
> 
> this is...basically 4.8k words of incoherent filler, i am so sorry


	7. 第七章

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i paced this very fast and suddenly but uh, it's fine, it's whatever, i'm figuring things out-  
> another seoho perspective but i think this feels short to me because i want to switch back to geonhak's perspective lol
> 
>  **tw** // mentions of blood, past injury
> 
> unbeta'd, all errors (if there are any) are mine!

* * *

It was in 1642, in the middle of the Joseon era, and Geonhak's second ever time traveling through time that Seoho had realized that he didn't actually hate the younger as much as he thought he always had.

Seoho had - and still has - always been more self-aware than Geonhak. That's what he thinks, at least. He knows how to accept his emotions much quicker, but he just doesn't know how to express them, whereas he theorizes that Geonhak can express himself much more freely but won't ever properly accept what he's feeling, at least not as soon as Seoho does.

Geonhak is changing in his room with the door slightly cracked open, careless as Geonhak tends to be sometimes, while Seoho, more self-conscious, would always make sure the door is shut when he changes. As Geonhak slips his _hanbok_ on, Seoho catches the sight of the scar on Geonhak's back. It still looks pretty new - and it is, only approximately five or so months old, even though it's been eras for Seoho - and it makes something hurt in the immortal's chest.

Why? He doesn't know.

(Or well, he does. Seoho _does_ know. He just kind of - only kind of - wishes he didn't.)

When Seoho was tending to Geonhak's back wound after that ridiculous life-or-death situation where the delusional high status man had accused Geonhak of being a grim reaper, Seoho had wondered why he was doing all that he had done in the first place.

(He doesn’t wonder why now. He knows why now.)

If he truly did dislike Geonhak, he would not have gone through all the efforts of willingly revealing his secret (even though he really had no choice back then), of showing Geonhak around through all the eras and now currently the 1940's, nor would he have gone through the trouble of saving the other's life during that horrible Joseon situation.

1642, Joseon era. Right after Geonhak’s slightly comical but still traumatizing near-death.

That's where Seoho's had to reluctantly mark in his head, the day he realizes that he does care for the younger man even with how strange and especially scary the idea is to him.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


_Seoho stabs his stick into the slowly dying fire, in hopes of reviving it for just at least a little bit longer, and also in hopes of ignoring the hammering of his anxious heart that only grows more achy in his chest by the second. He's overthinking, once again; he knows he is, and he hates that he is._

_Imagine what would have happened if he had been even a few seconds later, he wonders morbidly. What would have become of Geonhak? Geonhak would be dead, that’s what. Geonhak would not be moving, not be breathing, covered in his blood over such a stupid thing. And it would be Seoho's fault. Because he hadn't watched over Geonhak properly, is what he thinks. If he had come in any later, then he would have Geonhak's blood on his hands._

_Then, even worse, Seoho imagines how Lady Park, back in Goryeo, would be. His past self would still be around, but Geonhak wouldn't. And Geonhak isn't immortal like he is. Geonhak would just never come back._

_Seoho's eyes shake and he tries to still the way his breath wavers, but his eyes fall upon his one hand gripping the stick and sees how this little bit of Geonhak's blood is still on his hand and he nearly chokes up right then._

  
  
  


_"_ Hyung _," he hears Geonhak say, but Seoho doesn't bother to acknowledge him in any way._

  
  
  


_He doesn't turn nor does he say anything. He doesn't want to hear it. He doesn't want to think of it._

_The only person Seoho ever cared about and ever will care about will always just be Lady Park. No one else._

_But..._

_If Geonhak speaks even a bit more - because he knows Geonhak, soft and genuine as he is sometimes even with their weird friend-enemy dynamic, is going to thank him, or apologize, or even worse, both - Seoho is scared things will change._

_‘Things’ being the fact he'll care about another person when he's so opposed to the idea of it._

_(But it's already too late. He knows he already cares about Geonhak when he's currently so shaken up over nearly losing him._

_So what can Seoho do? Nothing. Seoho cares about Geonhak, he knows and accepts it now, because there isn’t anything he can do, even if he doesn’t want it to be this way._

_After all, has the human heart ever obeyed the human brain?)_

  
  
  


_"Nevermind. It's nothing."_

  
  
  


_Somehow, even though Seoho didn't want Geonhak to talk to him, those words strike the immortal in some weird way._

_Seoho prods the fire again but it had died a while ago, just the remnants of burnt stones, leaves, and dirt along with the fluttering of ashen wood. It's futile to revive the fire but he keeps poking at it anyway, trying his hardest to fight the stinging in his eyes._

_He's so terribly scared. Scared over the fact that he does care for Geonhak. Scared that he could have lost this man completely just barely an hour ago. Scared that one day, even though it thankfully isn't now, he will have to relive the pain of losing another cherished person all over again._

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


" _Hyung_."

  
  
  


A hand waves in front of Seoho's eyes and he jumps so fiercely that the glass cup in his hands nearly goes flying, forcing him to make a show in front of Geonhak of juggling the cup around. And while he succeeds in catching it, that last bit of water he had left goes flying out and it's just enough to splatter onto Seoho's sweater that has a dorky pattern on it, leaving behind a significantly large dark spot.

_God_ , the immortal hadn't realized he had spaced out. Seoho groans and he faintly hears Geonhak snicker, making the heat rise in the back of his neck.

Surprisingly, Geonhak doesn't insult him when Seoho goes to face him. Or actually, Geonhak had disappeared again, having gone off somewhere while Seoho was too busy flustered, and thus leaving the man standing there shamefully with a wet spot on his shirt.

  
  
  


" _Aish_ , Lee Seoho..." Seoho mumbles under his breath, rubbing at the damp spot with his hands as if it'll actually do something.

  
  
  


He knows full well it won't do anything. But it's his way of distracting himself from the embarrassment, although it's a useless attempt, his entire face now hot and probably red.

The last thing Seoho expects when Geonhak comes back is to have a sweater shoved in his face. His eyes meet Geonhak's, and the man just looks at him with an expression that says "go on, take it", but Seoho's frozen in place.

It's not just the fact Geonhak's brought him a new change of clothes instead of making fun of him. But it's also the sweater that he had chosen. It's not just any sweater, but the blue sweater that's somewhat faded over time from Seoho over-wearing it. It's Seoho's favorite sweater, and of all of the shirts and sweaters in Seoho's closet - considering there actually aren't that many - Geonhak has somehow chosen this specific one.

He doubts it means anything, because Geonhak's only been in 1947 for a week. There's no way he would know Seoho's favorite sweater. It's not like Seoho's worn it.

(Or, well, it's not like he's worn it that many times that week.)

  
  
  


"God, Seoho- _hyung_ , stop spacing out," Geonhak sighs after a while, waving the sweater in his face. "Take it while I'm being nice."

  
  
  


"You? Nice? As if," Seoho scoffs but he snatches the sweater out of Geonhak's grip.

  
  
  


"I got you a new sweater anyway, didn't I? I could have made fun of your clumsiness, or commented on how ugly that sweater is anyway," Geonhak retorts. "So it _is_ nice of me that I brought you this nicer one."

  
  
  


Seoho hisses at him like some offended cat.

  
  
  


"This sweater isn't ugly," Seoho defends, but he's lying.

  
  
  


Even _he_ thinks it's ugly. It's got a horrible combination of zig-zags and polka dots in a confusing color combo of purple, green, and red upon a murky gray, not to mention he's also not even sure where he got that sweater.

  
  
  


"Ah, so you rather wear that wet thing? Fine by me," Geonhak says coyly.

  
  
  


"No…” He grimaces.

  
  
  


Oh, how he wishes to wipe that stupid look off of Geonhak’s face.

  
  
  


"Then what are you waiting for? Change."

  
  
  


Geonhak's expression has worsened into this nasty smirk on his face and Seoho stares at him like he's gone crazy. Or that maybe Seoho himself is going crazy.

It... feels like a challenge. And a somewhat suggestive challenge at that, and oh God, Seoho isn't really so sure how he feels about that.

But he knows Geonhak doesn't actually expect him to go through with doing anything scandalous. They _are_ standing by a window and Seoho _is_ rather conservative, after all.

However that only makes Seoho want to do something all the more. It's like letting Geonhak win, and he is not going to let him. So he sets his favorite sweater down on the window sill and just flings the ugly sweater he's wearing off, revealing the pale skin of his torso and chest and effectively scaring Geonhak enough that the man makes this strangled noise in the back of his throat.

  
  
  


"What are you—" Geonhak sputters, shielding his face with his sleeves dramatically.

  
  
  


"Changing," Seoho says simply, pretending like he's not embarrassed in the slightest. "Like you told me to, did you not?"

  
  
  


"I—"

  
  
  


Geonhak groans and covers his face with both of his hands. Seoho got him there. And that's all Seoho needs before he's cozying himself into his favorite sweater, his bare chest and all disappearing under the soft fabric. (Much to his relief, too, because being top-naked for even a few seconds is not so fun for him.)

Seoho, though, doesn't miss the way Geonhak's ears have faded into deep red, like they always do when Geonhak gets flustered. He's seen the way Geonhak blushes all the way to his ears, many times, when someone compliments him, or when Seoho's successfully teased him (just like now). But once again, it does something to his heart, this weird ticklish feeling that Seoho hasn't familiarized himself with yet, and it's really starting to get annoying over how much Geonhak has such an impact on him.

Stupid Seoho and his care for Geonhak.

  
  
  


"There, happy?" Seoho huffs, before sheepishly changing the subject. "Anyway, you remember the coordinates, right?"

  
  
  


Geonhak, lowering his arms slowly, nods and lifts his left wrist where the time traveling watch is strapped.

Although Seoho's seen the watch so many times, it never fails to amaze him. It's seriously ahead of their time - and it probably is, probably some far distant future that neither of them have seen yet - with all the intricate, futuristic designs, and with the faint, ominous glow of cyan illuminated from the small screen displaying a set of obscure numbers.

  
  
  


"Don't forget them, okay? I don't want to have to go hunting for you if you accidentally come back in the wrong location," Seoho says, almost scoldingly.

  
  
  


"You're not my mother, I'll be fine," Geonhak grunts, but Seoho can't help but stay worried anyway.

  
  
  


"I might as well _be_ your mother. I swear I remember you forgetting the coordinates once, making me have to search for hours."

  
  
  


"Okay, yeah, I forgot them once,” Geonhak admits shamefully, “but that was a while ago! I promise I'll be okay this time."

  
  
  


Geonhak tries to stand taller, straightening his back, as if it does anything to prove his point. Seoho squints at him, still not believing the younger, before he exhales.

  
  
  


"Alright, fine," Seoho says, his voice unexpectedly going soft.

  
  
  


He reaches out to adjust the collar of Geonhak's _hanbok_ that's folded a bit unnaturally and Geonhak, ever so slightly, flinches at the touch. Seoho raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything about it. If anything, it makes him feel fuzzy, and he fondly flattens out the creases on the _hanbok_ before he, without any warning, smacks Geonhak hard in the chest.

  
  
  


"Yah!" Geonhak swipes at him but Seoho easily twirls out of the way and in the direction of the flowers that Geonhak had set aside the day before.

  
  
  


"Don't die or something, got it?" Seoho grins, ignoring the fact that Geonhak's still glaring at him and rubbing his chest exaggeratedly.

  
  
  


He shoves the flower vase into Geonhak's arms and gives a rather comedic salute as if he's sending Geonhak off to war.

(The action doesn't help too much in covering up the worry bubbling up in Seoho’s stomach, but Geonhak doesn't seem to notice, and that's all that matters.)

  
  
  


"Whatever, _Mom_ ," Geonhak says, scrunching up his nose. His eyes look past Seoho’s shoulder, eyeing something in the kitchen, then he meets Seoho’s eyes again. "You better fix that annoying lightbulb in the kitchen when I get back."

  
  
  


"Or what? What are you gonna do about it?" Seoho smirks challengingly, ignoring the way his stomach twists weirdly.

  
  
  


Geonhak gawks at him and groans, louder than the earlier one, and shoves past the immortal and towards the door.

  
  
  


"God, you always beat me. I hate you," Geonhak grumbles.

  
  
  


Seoho hums and skips over to the door, opening it in such a graceful and careful way as he stretches his arm out towards the outside world like he's Geonhak's butler.

  
  
  


"Love you too," he coos.

  
  
  


The words kind of just come out, and Seoho halts. It's a joke, sure, but he _never_ says things like that. He's even only said it maybe once or twice to Lady Park, and now he's just throwing it freely at Geonhak.

Geonhak rolls his eyes though, seemingly unbothered by the remark, and quietly leaves out the door with the vase of flowers cradled in his arms a bit ridiculously, so delicately like it's a baby.

Seoho watches for a brief moment as Geonhak heads back up the hill towards the bridge before, unexpectedly, he feels like he can't bear to watch anymore. The door slams behind him, harder than he intends, and the sound echoes in his ears.

_Love? ...Oh no._ It’s an idea that’s never crossed his mind over. Maybe a few times back then but not any time recently. At least, not until now.

Seoho looks down at his favorite sweater. He swallows. And then realizes that he's even more screwed that he initially thought.

It was already hard enough for Seoho to admit to himself that he cares about Geonhak as a friend, and _has_ cared about Geonhak as a friend for maybe the past two to three hundred years now even under their stupid guise of some sort of rivals, but never in his life did he consider that maybe it was more than that.

Somehow he doesn't want to see Geonhak right as he leaves, and now he's terrified, staring down at his favorite sweater that he feels like he won't be able to look at the same anymore.

_Love? Loving Geonhak? Oh, oh no._ Seoho isn't so sure that's okay. Caring about the man is one thing but loving him is another, and not to mention how taboo such a thing is.

Oh no, Seoho loves Geonhak, doesn't he? He thinks he gets it out now, it somewhat makes more sense now, unfortunately - it explains why his heart had fluttered when Geonhak helped him with his vest the week before, why he had felt so endeared seeing Geonhak softly caring for children at the daycare, why the heart that Seonyul had drawn on his drawing for Geonhak had made him feel weird.

It explains why Seoho subconsciously finds himself yearning for the next time Geonhak visits him after several hundreds of years. It explains why Geonhak's gotten less annoying every time. And finally, it explains, even though it's such a simple thing, why Seoho's been subconsciously thinking _for a while now_ about how Geonhak gets more and more handsome every new era he gets to see him.

It all makes sense, it all fits together now, and he really, _really_ hates it. Seoho doesn't hate Geonhak - maybe he never has - but he hates the fact that he both cares about the time traveler and now _loves_ him.

Seoho groans and slams backwards into the door, sliding down until his chin touches his knees. He buries his face into his hands and breathes in deeply, deep enough until it starts to hurt his chest. (Not like it can compare to the painful realization of learning that, not only does Seoho care about Geonhak as a friend, now he’s got an even worse case of actually being in love.) Then he presses into his eyelids, a futile attempt to stem the wave of emotions hitting him, pressing hard enough until he starts to see something that resembles a fuzziness similar to colorful television static and similar to the dumb emotions curdling within him. He knows it's only for a week but somehow sending Geonhak off hurts, hurts that he can't ever be with Geonhak forever because Geonhak doesn't like him and because Geonhak is _mortal._

God, oh God, how life can change so quickly. One minute Seoho is spacing out, conveniently evaluating his weird relationship with Geonhak and how he views Geonhak as a friend while Geonhak most definitely does not see him the same way. Another minute and he’s spilling water onto himself like a fool. Then he’s sending Geonhak off after only a week _for_ a week. And now, instead of evaluating his friendship with Geonhak, he’s evaluating his newly realized _romantic feelings_ for Geonhak.

He just wants to tell himself it's just a stupid crush, that it'll go away, but he finds that his feelings toward Geonhak hasn't changed, it's just that he's now realizing what his feelings _really_ are. All this time, it's been love - not just a stupid infatuation because he's realized he's had these feelings for much, _much_ longer than that.

God. How life can change so quickly. How quick it is to realize something and how quickly it can change _everything_.

  
  
  


_Oh, Lee Seoho, now you've really done it._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so anyway, to distract you from this mess of a weirdly paced chapter, i hope everyone is okay and staying safe! (especially with my fellow americans with this stupid long election that's making everyone and myself very anxious lol,,)


	8. 第八章

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so um, this chapter is,, twice as long as the previous one, oops?
> 
> also lots of time skipping, as well as flashbacks, in this chapter so it might be a little confusing... i'm sorry (ﾉД`)
> 
>  **cw** // death (non-graphic though)
> 
> unbeta'd, all errors are mine!

* * *

_One day, it hits him._

_Or, well,_ something _hits him. Literally._

_One minute, Geonhak is just washing his soiled clothes by the stream not too far from his home, and the next minute, he finds himself doubled over on the ground, face down into the dirt and grass._

_The top of his head aches, and he groans, his voice muffled by the ground. Then he's rolling over onto his back, and he groans more when his absolute mess of long hair spills all over his face._

_He feels like his head is going to split open, and he imagines whatever's fallen on his head must've been a boulder with how vicious the pain is. Maybe his head_ will _split open, because my God, Geonhak opens his eyes and finds that he can't see. At all._

_(Or rather, much to Geonhak's embarrassment, he eventually realizes that it's just his hair obscuring his vision.)_

_Geonhak whines and rubs at his scalp - uselessly, really, because it only helps in making the to-be-bruise hurt more - and then he finally manages to pull himself into a sitting position._

_Okay. So he's exaggerating how serious his injury is if he can sit up just fine. And when Geonhak looks around, there's definitely no such boulder._

_At first, he sees absolutely nothing. Just dirt, grass, his basket of wet clothes that are only half-clean, more dirt, and then the stream. But then he looks further, still pathetically grasping his definitely-going-to-be-bruised head, and his eyes land on a small black band lying not too far from where he is._

_There's no way this thing could have fallen from the sky, he thinks in confusion. There's a ton of foliage overhead, casting shadows onto him. So whatever this small black band is, which he's now taken into the hand that isn't grasping the crown of his head, must have fallen from the trees. But even that doesn't make sense. Geonhak has no idea what he's even looking at but he's certainly smart enough to know this object he's holding isn't something that falls from the trees, much less is it… ordinary._

**  
  
  
**

_"What in the world..." He mumbles under his breath, taking his other hand away from his head so that he's now carefully holding this mysterious gadget with both of his hands._

**  
  
  
**

_Geonhak has seen bracelets before, simple threads winded together on the wrists of the merchants' wives, or more intricate bracelets adorning the arms of the performing ladies at the_ gisaeng _house that he's only ever been dragged to once._

_But this? It isn't quite a bracelet. But Geonhak didn't know anything else more similar - there were even straps like it was meant to be tied around a wrist - and so, Geonhak, purely on impulse, decides he's going to put it on his wrist._

**  
  
  
**

* * *

**  
  
  
**

For some reason, Geonhak hesitates. It's not like he's never visited Lady Park's home before - he's done so many times, multiple times, maybe even too much so - but this time he ends up hovering around the entrance of her home as if he's a creep trying to break in.

He even lives across the street, his home literally just sitting mere meters away, so he doesn't know why he's nervous now.

Maybe it's because he's just come back from the future? Maybe it's because he's got a new haircut? Maybe he doesn't want to run into Gunmin, who he's come to see as a totally different person from Seoho?

A mixture of all of the above?

Either way, Geonhak gulps then decides he's fine, it's just his nerves. It's not like this is his first time visiting Lady Park after time traveling. He hugs the bundle of flowers close to his chest, the bouquet he's tied together with a simple decorative cloth that he's managed to scavenge from a pile of stray cloth pieces that the clothing merchant discarded, and then he marches right into Lady Park's property.

Maybe Lady Park is a mind-reader, or maybe it's her grandmotherly superpowers kicking in (or, you know, it's just by pure coincidence), but right as he steps into her property, the old lady is stepping out of the little house not even seconds later. A basket of herbs and vegetables are carefully cradled in her arms, mirroring the way Geonhak is cradling the flowers he's brought for her, and her eyes quite literally sparkle when she sees him.

(Geonhak is so thankful these flowers traveled safely with him. This is his first time bringing something like flowers. He's brought other objects before, but not flowers. He had just assumed it would probably be okay, but he was never entirely sure because with the way he's still incapable of bringing another person with him, there was a chance flowers wouldn't work out so well. So it's a good thing these flowers are unharmed and just as vibrant as before he had left.)

**  
  
  
**

"Oh my, Geonhak, dear! Are those for me?" Lady Park says, her eyes wide with surprise, as she sets down her basket on a nearby wooden stool.

**  
  
  
**

"Yes, Lady Park," Geonhak smiles, holding out the bundle of flowers. "I got you lavender, since it's your favorite, and as well as some— I believe they're called coneflowers and some sort of daisies? They grow under similar circumstances, or at least that is what I was told, so you shouldn't worry about taking care of them any different."

**  
  
  
  
**

Lady Park graciously takes the bouquet, her face practically glowing with adoration and warmth. She takes a while to admire the floral plants, lightly touching the petals of the African daisies - which Geonhak realizes is not native at all to Goryeo, but he thinks it best to not say anything - before she looks back up at Geonhak again, her eyes glittering.

**  
  
  
**

"Geonhak- _ah_ , these are beautiful," she says happily. "You are always so kind and thoughtful to me, even when you are so busy. I couldn't be thankful enough."

**  
  
  
**

"No, Lady Park, I'm very grateful for you. You take care of me so well, this is the least I can do to thank you," Geonhak says.

**  
  
  
**

Lady Park holds the bouquet close to her chest, still taking occasional glances to admire the purple, fuchsia, and yellow flowers.

**  
  
  
**

"They are _so_ lovely, really, thank you so much," she thanks again, giggling lightly. "I'm so happy I feel like I'm a young girl again."

**  
  
  
**

"Of course, it's nothing," Geonhak says, his eyes uncontrollably creasing and his lips curling into his own smile, unable to avoid Lady Park's contagious laughter.

**  
  
  
**

For just a moment more, the elderly woman continues to adore the flowers before she looks up and… adores Geonhak instead. Somehow he's started by it even though she has stared at him many times before.

**  
  
  
**

"I see you've made changes to your hair," Lady Park notes.

**  
  
  
**

"Oh—" Geonhak presses his lips together, suddenly self-conscious. "Is… does it look bad?"

**  
  
  
**

"Oh Geonhak, it's not bad at all, not even a little. You're always so handsome no matter what."

**  
  
  
**

Geonhak lifts a hand and lightly touches his short bangs hanging over the headband tied sloppily around his forehead.

He kind of feels like he should credit Seoho. (Maybe not Gunmin though, because although they are the same person, Geonhak has no relation whatsoever - or at least not a very good one - to the Gunmin of Goryeo.)

Seoho _had_ helped buy these flowers - with his money, no less - not to mention Seoho had also cut his hair (properly this time). It would feel unfair of Geonhak to take all the credit for himself.

**  
  
  
**

"My friend, from... another village, actually cut my hair. I felt like I needed a change," Geonhak says, half-lying, though he admits he's taken to liking the convenience of the shorter hairstyle. "He also helped me pick out these flowers for you. I shouldn't take all the credit."

**  
  
  
**

"Well, say thank you to your friend for me," Lady Park smiles. "But I'm thanking _you_ , Geonhak- _ah_. You don't always have to be so selfless all the time. Ah, these flowers would certainly brighten up my home, they are just so colorful."

**  
  
  
**

Geonhak chuckles softly and rolls up his sleeves.

**  
  
  
**

"Sorry, Lady Park. I'm really happy you like them. So what work do you have in store for me today?"

**  
  
  
**

* * *

**  
  
  
**

_Geonhak, unexpectedly, must have pressed something on the contraption he's just strapped to his wrist. Because then he finds himself face down on the ground again._

_It feels all the same, dirt and grass and pebbles, but when he sits up, his surroundings... are different. But also not. The same... but different?_

_His pile of laundry? Gone. The stream he was just by? Also gone, actually completely run_ dry _, but the indents of dirt imply that a stream had once run through there. The same trees are hung overhead but even they feel different somehow, and Geonhak staggers to his feet in disbelief._

_The band on his wrist is glowing weirdly and he internally screams at whatever mysterious force of nature he's just idiotically put on without thinking. He scrambles to get it off but stops halfway._

_Because this thing brought Geonhak here, and he has no idea where he is._

_But by pure common sense, eyeing the dried out stream by him that was running crystal clear just moments ago, there were only a few answers to his predicament:_

_One, he's just landed himself in an alternate universe. He's heard theories of such things, that there are multiple versions of their current universe, from the specific storyteller in town that everyone had deemed half-sane. (Now he doesn't think that man is so crazy anymore. Maybe he's right after all, or at least he's on to something.)_

_Two, Geonhak is dreaming. Not really a theory conjured by his common sense but a silent hope that he's just been knocked out this whole time and he'll wake up next to the running stream again. His surroundings aren't all that strange nor are they terrifying but the idea of whatever he's just done is so unheard of he might as well be dreaming it all._

_But, Theory Number Three, perhaps Geonhak has just traveled through time. This is the future, because it just makes sense the more he thinks about it. The stream shouldn't be absolutely gone, dried out, only remnants of dirt and rocks left behind, if this was still in the past. It made more sense than the alternate universe idea, but Geonhak admits either idea is just as absurd as the other._

_But there isn't much he can do now. He looks down at the band on his wrist and raises an eyebrow at the odd symbols flashing on the screen. He has no idea what any of it means, what the symbols mean, what the little press-able parts are (that had sent him into the possible future), nor how he'll be able to figure out how to_ operate _this damn futuristic gadget._

_But he decides that if he takes it off, then he'll really never know how to get back._

_Geonhak groans - it's totally classic, just his typical_ atypical _luck, to get into some weird, incomprehensible situation like this - but there isn't anything he can do but to look around and get moving. He pinches himself just to make sure, and sure enough, unfortunately, Theory Two of this being a dream is debunked._

_The only thing he can think of now is to head back towards town and see if things really are different. To see just if he really has jumped into the future. To see if he's just become a time traveler._

_He really,_ really _has no idea what will be in store for him._

**  
  
  
**

* * *

**  
  
  
**

"So what's your friend like, dear? I often see you with the children, or around the merchants, but otherwise you seem to shy away from others," Lady Park asks. "Not that I am judging, of course, I _also_ enjoy some 'me time'. This old lady's just being nosy, you know. You don't talk about friends very often."

**  
  
  
**

Geonhak smiles in amusement, looking up from the stack of firewood he's just brought back for Lady Park.

Lately, he's actually been thinking a lot about where he stands with Seoho and how he views the other man. They got off on the wrong foot, some weird, childish jealousy with no proper explanation - hell, Geonhak _still_ can't interact with Goryeo era Seoho, this complicated Lee Gunmin that hates his guts - but now he's rather settled with the idea of him and Seoho actually being friends.

Seoho doesn't actually seem to hate him, he's noticed, especially much more recently. Seoho could easily ignore him, abandon him, forsake him if he wanted to. He knows that man is too smart and clever for his own good, and is fully capable of being deceitful if he wishes to be. However he's never been truly malicious to Geonhak. _Never_.

(Even though Seoho's roughhoused with him a lot, and usually often wins both their physical and their verbal clashes, Geonhak finds Seoho taking care of him the next minute. It's a weird relationship he couldn't wrap his head around before but now it all just feels like a friend thing.)

So with Lady Park's question, running through the things that he's been thinking about for a good while, he feels like he has an answer now.

They _are_ friends, he thinks, they have to be by now. Nothing else can explain their silly relationship. Seoho is his friend, or at least he hopes so, even if he may never admit that directly to Seoho.

**  
  
  
**

"My friend? He's... a bit of a fool," Geonhak says after pondering for a while, "though, honestly, not in a bad way at all. He's actually really a _smart_ fool, if anything. We bicker a lot, and sometimes it gets really bad, but I think I take his nagging for granted. It's like he's looking out for me and taking care of me even if I just don't see it in the moment. I'm not actually even sure he considers me a friend but he still does much more for me than he has to."

**  
  
  
**

Lady Park smiles down at the vegetables she's washing, a rather _knowing_ smile, and she pauses to think for a while herself. It looks like she's reminiscing, her eyes distant and longing and maybe even a little bit sad, but the smile on her face never falls and actually grows ever so slightly. It's a bittersweet kind of sad, the happy melancholy of the past that she's never really talked about to Geonhak.

**  
  
  
**

"Well," she finally says, "what are friends without a little bit of bickering? Back when I was still young and pretty, my best friend and I argued all the time. But I know she loved me and she knows I loved her. I trusted her more than anyone, and our arguing never meant anything by the end of the day."

**  
  
  
**

_Our arguing never meant anything by the end of the day._

**  
  
  
**

Geonhak repeats the words in his head as he organizes the firewood, separating the smaller pieces from the larger ones.

**  
  
  
**

_Our arguing… never meant anything by the end of the day..._

**  
  
  
**

He presses his lips together and stares long and hard at one particular block of wood that he had chopped.

In truth, Geonhak doesn't really remember most of the bickering he's had with Seoho. However, it's all they ever do - a lot of the time, regrettably, there's no content to their conversations, maybe sometimes but most of the time it was just quarreling - and it makes Geonhak wonder: does their squabbling ever actually mean anything to Seoho?

It never occurred how much it _didn't_ mean to Geonhak. For months now he's convinced himself he doesn't get along with Seoho and that it would just be like that. But lately, especially after being with the immortal for just the past week, Geonhak feels more appreciative of Seoho's hospitality.

Again, how easy it would be for Seoho to harm him, verbally, physically, or to harm him just in general.

Seoho is a terribly _powerful_ man, he really is.

He's naturally smart, and after being alive for quite literally ages, now he's knowledgeable in way too many things. And so Seoho can kick ass if he needs to. Sure, Geonhak works out, but that doesn't and will _never_ equate to Seoho's experience of living for over a thousand years.

He bets Seoho has died a few times too. Not permanently, of course, and though Seoho's never really talked about it, Geonhak definitely remembers a few times Seoho had hinted at a possible death he's experienced. It's kind of painful to think about, knowing Seoho has experienced death before (even if only temporarily). But it's one of the things that strengthens Seoho all the more.

So even with the power Seoho practically holds, an immortal who could be all-knowing if he really wanted to, Geonhak is thankful that the most he's ever gotten were arguments that he never really remembers after a few days.

Geonhak finds an unconscious smile forming on his face, the corners of his lip curling up, matching the one Lady Park has. He hopes Seoho doesn't mind their squabbling by the end of the day because Geonhak sure doesn't, at least not anymore.

**  
  
  
**

"You have a good point," Geonhak says softly, the smile on his face still growing.

**  
  
  
**

Lady Park smiles harder. The reminiscent look is still on her face, but Geonhak doesn't really know what it means other than that she's probably still thinking of her best friend.

**  
  
  
**

"Of course I do, I _am_ speaking from experience, after all."

**  
  
  
**

Geonhak chuckles and hauls half of the fire wood over to where Lady Park is sitting.

**  
  
  
**

"By the way, Lady Park, you may not be young anymore but you're still pretty."

**  
  
  
**

Lady Park blinks at surprise as she shuffles over with the freshly washed vegetables. "Oh, you—"

**  
  
  
**

* * *

**  
  
  
**

_So time travel exists._

_It's unbelievable, unheard of, probably forbidden information that Geonhak never should have stumbled upon. But it exists._

_And as time travel exists…_

_Apparently, so does immortality._

_Gunmin is puffing his cheeks out, his hat hanging by a black ribbon against his throat, and his top-knot neater than Geonhak's as always (especially since Geonhak has just opted to tie his hair into a sloppy ponytail for the time being). He's fidgeting around with a large wok (or whatever Gunmin had called it), which really just looks like a larger, more curved pan._

_And Geonhak is staring at Gunmin incredulously for the millionth time that afternoon._

_Two hundred or so years into the future, according to Gunmin. That's where Geonhak finds himself._

_And immortality exists solely because Gunmin is the product of it. Not one day, not a single day, not even a_ minute _nor a_ second _has Gunmin aged_. At all _. It's why he's still alive, fresh and young and identical to how he had looked two hundred years ago. Right in front of Geonhak._

_It's seriously unheard of, but there's no denying it now. It all, very scarily, makes sense._

_So, just like that, Geonhak suddenly finds himself capable of time travel, and acquainted with a man he had disliked (or still dislikes) who he's just discovered to be incapable of aging nor dying. That's just what it is now._

**  
  
  
**

_"What, Geonhak, are you just going to sit there? Is my face really all that_ alluring _that you can't look away?" Gunmin huffs after a while. "At least_ try _to make yourself useful if you're going to_ stare _at me like a baffled_ child _."_

**  
  
  
**

_Geonhak feels a vein pop in his neck. He's still trying to process everything, the concept of time traveling and immortality and the fact it truly is real, and now Gunmin is making fun of him like he's supposed to_ know _these things were real._

**  
  
  
**

_"Yes, I_ am _just going to sit here," he spats stubbornly. "What are you going to do about it?"_

**  
  
  
**

_Gunmin, without even looking up, kicks his foot out and launches his shoe at Geonhak. It hits him square in the forehead and he yelps, falling off of the chair he had been sitting on._

_Right then, Geonhak decides that he really,_ really _does not like Gunmin. At all._

**  
  
  
**

* * *

**  
  
  
**

Geonhak really, _really_ doesn't hate Seoho. At all. Not even a little bit.

Maybe he had hated the man in the past, or at most disliked him, but he for sure doesn't dislike Seoho now. And he had literally only come to terms with that conclusion a half a week ago.

Watching Seoho awkwardly introduce himself to dear Seonyul and immediately getting along afterwards, Geonhak thinks if he hated Seoho, he wouldn't have felt so _fuzzy_ inside. He should've felt bitter, jealous that Seoho was taking Seonyul's attention when it could've been him. But Geonhak didn't feel like that at all and felt rather _fond_ watching the older man giggle over something Seonyul had whispered to him.

He remembers finding Seoho pretty during his embarrassing fumble during their first meeting. And after clearing his mistaken hatred for the other man, he finds Seoho pretty again. He's attractive, not just physically but also personality-wise, silly and goofy and a little bit awkward but all in a way that Geonhak has grown to like.

It's been about half a week in Goryeo already, four days flying by just like that, helping Lady Park around, shopping from his favorite merchants, playing with the children around town who have missed him, all that business.

And Geonhak... is surprised that he actually kind of misses Seoho. Though Gunmin had dropped by Lady Park at least once while Geonhak was leaving, the same sharp cat eyes and the same uniquely bright smile with a hint of mischief in it, it _isn't_ the Seoho that Geonhak knows.

He rather misses being able to joke around with Seoho, his more genuine jokes even though they're still teasing. This Gunmin only knows how to bite, and he only knows how to bite back, and it rather gets on his nerves too that he can't get along with Gunmin the way he does with Seoho even though, again, they're basically the same person.

Lady Park's words had put things into perspective for him too. Geonhak thought at first maybe he and Seoho were rivals, but then after a while it felt like they were friendly rivals, then, even further, it at least maybe acquaintances. Never had he considered that maybe... they were actually friends now.

As much as he loves Lady Park, and his home back in Goryeo, he finds himself yearning to go back to the 1940's again.

The time travel watch is iffy and weird and so stupidly complicated in its way that Geonhak has to wait a week before he can use it again, not to mention a week passes as well from the time he last traveled to (which is still really confusing, even despite all these months of using it).

Plus, it makes him worry and hope Seoho's doing well. It's just a week but Geonhak knows Seoho takes less care of himself than he does others, and that... actually makes him anxious. Is Seoho eating well? Is he handling his anxiety okay? Does he feel lonely?

Closing his eyes, leaning back against his bed, Geonhak thinks. One more day in Goryeo and he can go back to Seoho. To his friend. (His closest friend, Geonhak thinks absentmindedly, before he fully drifts off to sleep.)

**  
  
  
**

—

**  
  
  
**

At the end of the week, meaning he'd be returning to Seoho by tomorrow (much to his excitement), that very last day before he goes back to 1947… it happens. One of the worst things Geonhak couldn't even ever imagine, and it happens.

Lady Park falls ill.

It's almost too quick; she was _so_ healthy and bright the day before, babying him and overfeeding him and conversing with him about life and such, but now she's bedridden and tired and Geonhak has to watch fearfully as she takes slow breaths in her slumber.

Geonhak kind of hates this stupid time traveling watch in moments like these. No, he _really_ hates it right now. It somewhat complies in going back and forth in time but never in the way he wants it to. Only Seoho can read the coordinates and the tiny date at the bottom corner of the watch's screen (that Geonhak _still_ can't read because it's in what Seoho had called the Hindu-Arabic number system).

If he knew how to work this thing the way he wanted it to, he would easily go back in time, to a specific time he can actually choose. Greedily, he wants to stay with Lady Park, wants her to stay healthy and alive and _well,_ even when he knows everyone will come to an end at some point.

It's not fair that she has to be dying like this. The doctor in town, who he had run to almost immediately after finding Lady Park's state, had said there's nothing he can do.

**  
  
  
**

_I don't know what you want me to say. She's old_ , _young man,_ the doctor said. _That's just how it is. I'm sorry._

**  
  
  
**

Geonhak doesn't pay attention to the other presence that's appeared behind him as he shakily holds onto Lady Park's hand. He's too bitter and despaired, his heart racing all the way up into his ears, as he mulls over the idiot doctor's words and the empty apology.

**  
  
  
**

_She was fine yesterday_ , he had yelled. Screamed. Cried. _So why isn't she now?_

**  
  
  
**

But he got no answers. And he won't ever get any.

He thinks it's a given, anyway, even though he doesn't want to think about it. He has one answer but he doesn't want to acknowledge it.

Lady Park is old. The oldest in town, even.

So it was only a matter of time.

The flowers he had brought her are carefully placed in a pot in the corner of Lady Park's home, still vibrant and bright somehow. Unlike Lady Park's state.

( _God_ , Geonhak's head hurts, an ache throbbing menacingly in his temples. And it's nothing in comparison to the aching heartbreak in his chest.

He's experienced loss before. He had parents once, a younger brother once, and he had lost them to a short-lived but fatal war that had shaken the town when he was around 10 years old.

Lady Park was all he had left in Goryeo. She had become his family and was his only family, and now he was about to lose her too.)

Gunmin doesn't pay any attention to Geonhak either, the two of them ignoring each other like the other isn't even there. He sits across from Geonhak and grasps Lady Park's other hand, and Geonhak watches subtly from the corner of his eye as Seoho - no, Gunmin, he almost forgot - holds her hand close to his face like he's kissing it.

Never had Geonhak seen Seoho, nor even when he was Gunmin, sad before (or at least not that he knows of). But now he can say he has, eyes watching as for the first time ever, Geonhak sees Gunmin shed tears.

It makes him realize how much worse this might be for Gunmin. For Seoho. Geonhak is heartbroken enough but he wonders how Gunmin feels, _how Seoho had felt_ , being immortal and incapable of dying and having to see someone you love die. If it's hard enough for Geonhak, he can't imagine the grief Gunmin feels when he's someone who's forced to live forever and has to eventually watch everyone die around him.

But Geonhak can't say anything. Not when this Gunmin has no care for him whatsoever. He's in a place where he can comfort Seoho, but not in a place where he can comfort Gunmin. And he doesn't have the time to find any words anyway, not when Lady Park suddenly grips both of mens' hands, very lightly but still noticeable enough for Geonhak's head to whip up.

**  
  
  
**

"My grandsons…" she murmurs, her hoarse voice barely audible. "Oh, how I love you both so much."

**  
  
  
**

Geonhak doesn't register the tears streaming down his face right away. Now he's sobbing, head hanging low, unbearing to look any longer.

Lady Park had grown up losing everything. Her siblings, her parents, her best friend.

(Her best friend, her _lover_. Oh, how Lady Park missed her so much, even despite the fact they had to hide their love from the outside world.)

Geonhak and Gunmin are her dearest ones now, the two men who visited her everyday even though she was just the town's pathetic old soul, and she's ever so grateful they're there for her as always, even in her final moments.

She could have been so lonely. But she wasn't. And she smiles, hoping that maybe, in another life, she will meet them again.

**  
  
  
**

—

**  
  
  
**

The door opens timidly and even though it's really quiet, Seoho just about jumps, nearly toppling from where he's standing on one of the kitchen chairs. He's been trying to fix the lightbulb, but it just isn't cooperating even though it shouldn't be hard taking out a dead lightbulb and putting in a new one, and he's been too focused on grumbling to focus on the rest of his surroundings.

**  
  
  
**

"Geonhak, is that you—" he calls out instinctively when he steadies himself, slowly lowering himself back down onto the floor before he actually topples.

**  
  
  
**

He's sure he had locked the door though, and it makes his stomach flip, whipping around to face the person at the door who could potentially be a burglar, a pervert, or a murderer, and just someone who is _not_ Geonhak.

But thankfully, lo and behold, it _is_ Geonhak.

And Seoho feels his stomach twist with conflict. Because Geonhak is _five entire days_ late than the initial timeframe he had promised, gone for _12_ days rather than just a week.

Seoho has had to juggle his own newspaper job and has had to explain to Miss Kang at the daycare that Geonhak's had to take a trip even though he's just barely started working there. He's even covered what would have been Geonhak's shifts at the daycare, talking with Seonyul, being the new victim of Dong-il's biting (though with a newfound fondness for the boy), all while managing how to take care of himself back at home.

And, as the cherry on top of all of the things Seoho's had to juggle, he's had to learn to get used to having romantic feelings for Geonhak and for someone in general.

Seoho is _so_ ready to nag the younger man about everything, but when he sees the look on Geonhak's face, he stops. And his heart in his chest stops as well.

**  
  
  
**

"What? What's wrong?" Seoho asks instead, shuffling over with immediate concern.

**  
  
  
**

Geonhak doesn't respond, sluggishly removing the headband from his forehead and setting it down on the small table right by the front door. It's like he has no energy, his actions heavy like molasses, so slow it scares Seoho. The time traveler's got an unreadable look on his face, like he's holding something in. Then he sniffles once - just once - and suddenly he's got his arms wrapped around Seoho, letting everything loose.

The immortal stiffens at the touch, and especially since this is his first time seeing Geonhak after discovering his _love_ for the other, Seoho selfishly gets flustered.

But he shouldn't focus on his feelings now, not when Geonhak is sobbing into his shoulder.

And, also, Seoho is smart. He's intelligent, learning how to read people like a book and especially learning how to read Geonhak, who's basically the closest person in his life even considering their complicated arrangements with time. Seoho only needs to think about it for a short moment before he understands the cause of Geonhak's breakdown.

After all, he _was_ there when it had happened too.

Back then, back when he was Gunmin, back when he still hated Geonhak for no reason, he remembers Geonhak's short hair. He hadn't questioned it, as he was too caught up in his own grief to care. Now he knows why Geonhak's hair was short back then, during Lady Park's passing, that his future (or, well, current) self had cut it.

Geonhak lets out a really shaky sob, one that goes through his shoulders and tugs at Seoho's heart. It was hard for Seoho to see Lady Park go, all too suddenly, without any warning at all about her diminishing health. He remembers feeling angry, knowing that Lady Park was the kind of person to hide it if she had any health concerns. He felt angry that Geonhak had disappeared completely after burying her.

(Now he understands it's because Geonhak is a time traveler. Everything is a mess, Geonhak being a time traveler and him being an immortal, but Seoho's managed to stitch all the pieces together in his head.)

He caresses the back of Geonhak's head, brushing his fingers through the man's hair as Geonhak only cries harder. Seoho finds himself tearing up as well; for him, it's been centuries since Lady Park's death, but Geonhak's grief is fresh and utterly contagious. It makes Seoho feel like he's reliving his own grief again. He really misses her and seeing as Geonhak's just newly lost Lady Park, it feels like Seoho is there all over again, about five hundred years younger as Lee Gunmin with his hands wrapped around Lady Park's dying hand. But this time, at least, he can be there for Geonhak.

Seoho lets loose the tears brimming up in his eyes. He's crying for his empathy for Geonhak, but also partially out of guilt. He could've added everything up in his head and warned Geonhak about what was to come (even though death isn't a preventable thing). He could've at least been able to lessen Geonhak's grief but he didn't.

Geonhak trembles against his shoulder, half of his weight on Seoho who does his best to hold him up.

**  
  
  
**

"I'm sorry, Geonhak," he whispers, but he isn't so sure Geonhak catches it.

**  
  
  
**

Lady Park had once told him that 'love hurts' in the middle of an obscure conversation, a statement that he got no further explanation for.

Now he thinks he understands. Of course he understood after she had passed because he loved her, but he now, this time, understands her statement in a totally different way.

But even so, and even with over a thousand years of experience of being alive, Seoho never would've been prepared for the pain of feeling every little bit of hurt that Geonhak, his love, was feeling.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i know i didn't organize how fast time is passing in my fic so i'm really sorry lol, pretending things make sense?? also for reference, i did mention once geonhak was 18 when he first met seoho, but i... let's say he's like. 21 now lol, so basically it took3 years for him to get close to seoho ┐(´∀｀)┌
> 
> at least things are progressing? kind of?? next chapter won't be angsty i promise i'm sorry;; also never realized how long i want to make this fic when i have so many ideas so i am internally screaming lmao
> 
> anyway i love you guys ╰(*´︶`*)╯


	9. 第九章

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg hi sorry, i've been trying to at least keep a weekly update schedule, at least in my head even while knowing i'm bad at committing to schedules lol-  
> i got a little busy with school and lack of motivation and now that i'm having my thanksgiving break, i suddenly just get a rush of wanting to finish writing this chapter. it's a mess but i have like fifty thoughts in my head at once and it shows in my writing, so that's just how it is ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> unbeta'd, all errors are mine!

* * *

Geonhak tugs a cream-colored, cross knit sweater over his head, and he scrunches up his nose when the fabric drags over his face. His face is still somewhat swollen and puffy and _gross_ , because he had only stopped crying about barely over an hour ago.

He hasn’t gotten a glimpse of himself in the mirror yet, not daring to see the grief clinging to his face when he had gone to wash his face in the bathroom. But he bets his eyes are sore and bloodshot, and his nose stuffy and rubbed raw from blowing his nose (approximately 12 times in the past hour, if he was counting correctly). He doesn’t have to look to know the apples of his cheeks are flushed with a splashing of red that still hasn’t faded away.

The only reason Geonhak had stopped crying was because he had tired himself out. He had cried himself fresh out of tears until he was crying with a dry face, and Seoho, who was ironically just teary, had shooed him to the bathroom to wash his face because he, quote-on-quote, ‘looked like dog shit’.

(He supposes it’s for the better though. As much as he’d like to keep crying, he’s not so sure he’s willing to feel any grosser than he feels now.)

Geonhak sniffles and rubs at his nose that hurts from rubbing it too much.

He and Seoho… didn’t talk about it. But unsurprisingly, Seoho immediately caught on without Geonhak even having to explain it. Seoho, intuitive as he is, just needs to take one look into Geonhak’s eyes and it’s like he’s a mind reader because he just _knows._ But even with Seoho understanding as quickly as he did, they still didn’t talk about it. To be fair, Geonhak honestly didn’t want to talk about it anyway. Losing the person who had practically become family to him was hard enough, and he knows Seoho has it just as hard, even if it had been _years_ for the other. Barely a few days ago for Geonhak, over two _centuries_ for Seoho, but it’s the same sorrow.

(Maybe there didn’t need to be words shared between them about it. They both loved Lady Park, they both know that the other loved Lady Park. Maybe Geonhak was a little more comforted with the idea of their silent solidarity.)

Breathing in deeply through his mouth (since he couldn’t quite breathe through his nose), Geonhak steps out of the room and tries to act casual as if he hadn’t just cried his face off by distracting himself with a stubborn crease on his sweater. His act doesn’t last long though because then he’s getting attacked by a hasty Seoho, who snatches him up and drags him towards the door without any warning. Geonhak practically _squeaks_ (which is an incredible feat considering how deep his voice is), and not just because Seoho has startled him but also because Seoho’s hand is rather cold, the opposite of how warm Geonhak’s own hand is.

  
  
  


“Sheesh, _hyung,_ ” Geonhak mutters when he nearly trips over the shoes Seoho had bought for him that had been left scattered by the front door. “Where are we going that you’re in such a rush?”

  
  
  


Seoho turns to face him. Their hands are still linked together and Geonhak is starting to get more and more aware of it.

  
  
  


“Uh, hello? We’re gonna go eat. It’s _dinner time_ , Geonhak,” Seoho says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

  
  
  


Geonhak still feels miserable but he stares at Seoho like he’s a fool, clenching and unclenching his jaw like he’s trying his hardest not to choose violence as his next action.

  
  
  


“ _Hyung_ …” Geonhak sighs in disbelief and vague puzzlement. “Seoho- _hyung,_ the sun is literally still outside. Dinner isn’t for a long while.”

  
  
  


“I forgot to eat breakfast _and_ lunch, and I know for a fact that you haven’t eaten either because I’ve heard your stomach growl like a starved lion like three times in the past hour, so let’s just say it’s dinner time. Or late lunch. Dunch? Linner?” Seoho furrows his eyebrows like he’s actually conflicted. “Eh, whatever. You get my point.”

  
  
  


Geonhak snorts, but it’s weak and half-hearted.

  
  
  


“ _Hyung,_ I’m tired. And I look awful. Can we just sit outside and space out like a couple of mindless frogs?”

  
  
  


“Psh, nonsense. You look as handsome as you always do, big boy,” Seoho snorts.

  
  
  


_What—_

  
  
  


Seoho’s eyes widen slightly and he pauses like he’s finally realized what he’s just said, but he awkwardly clears his throat and averts his eyes.

  
  
  


“A-also, er, there’s this cafe I’ve been wanting to visit. You can probably get some energy back with some coffee. And to also rehydrate yourself from crying like a baby who’s had their candy stolen.”

  
  
  


“Wh—” Geonhak sputters, still hung up on the previous compliment and also on the new remark. “Like a _baby_?! _Hyung,_ you cried too!”

  
  
  


“Hmm,” Seoho pretends to think for a moment, resting his chin on his palm and drumming his fingers against his cheek. “Nope. Don’t remember, didn’t happen.”

  
  
  


He smiles coyly, flashing that signature smile of his, and then coaxes a bewildered Geonhak out the door before the younger can say anything in return.

  
  
  


—

  
  
  


Geonhak fidgets in his seat like an impatient child. For some reason, he feels kind of awkward sitting across from Seoho in the cafe that the other man had mentioned. The churning in his stomach is foreign, something that feels like anxiety but a little different, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

So he decides to just check out the interior of the cafe instead as a distraction, looking around the cafe as calmly as he possibly can. Like, _oh hey_ , the old-styled wallpaper colored a similar beige as his sweater paired together with this somewhat abstract painting of a dragon reminds him of Goryeo. He looks around from the desaturated teal-colored pottery placed around the cafe, and then down at the ceramic cup of coffee that’s been placed before him, steam still billowing from its contents.

He swallows thinly and tries not to visibly grimace. The thing is, Seoho had to order for him because Geonhak is still too accustomed to reading Hanja. The few months he had spent in early Joseon and the few _other_ months he had spent in _late_ Joseon, Seoho had schooled him on Hangul and he had picked up on it rather quickly. But he still read really slow in comparison to the citizens of 1947 South Korea, and so thankfully, Seoho had come to his aid and saved him the embarrassment of looking like a slow fool in front of the employees.

He’s grateful for it, but unfortunately, there’s an issue.

Geonhak doesn’t like coffee.

He didn’t have the heart to tell Seoho though… nor did he ever bother telling Seoho about the random adventure he had gone on alone within the first week of his time in 1947. Maybe the third or fourth day into this time travel trip, while Geonhak had ended his shift sooner than Seoho, Geonhak had gotten curious and roamed the city of Daejeon since he had maybe an hour to spare. He hadn’t realized how parched he was and had rather cluelessly wandered into a cafe - a different cafe from the one he’s currently sitting in - and next thing he knows, he’s sitting inside with a mug of plain black coffee.

(How Geonhak had succeeded in ordering that specific time was only because he had squinted at the menu intensely before lining up, however, at the cost of his dignity in front of the workers and the other customers.

Too bad he can’t explain that he had only learned Hangul about half a year ago.)

Geonhak bites his lip and looks up at Seoho guiltily as if expecting Seoho to be staring judgmentally at him, but thankfully, Seoho seems occupied. The immortal is piling on a suspicious amount of sugar into his coffee, in which the contents practically just look like milk from all the excessive creamer the man had poured in.

…But, once again, Geonhak finds he doesn’t have the heart to say anything. Seoho looks kind of innocent, child-like and naive as he blissfully mixes his horrible concoction of sugar and more sugar, and also blissfully unaware of Geonhak’s distaste for coffee.

It’s not only that, but at least one of them looks happier. It’s probably just because Seoho has had over five hundred years to grieve over Lady Park’s death, whereas everything is still fresh in Geonhak’s head, but Geonhak finds himself comforted that at least Seoho looks more jovial than the both of them had looked an hour earlier.

Though, as Seoho reaches for his sixth teaspoon of sugar as if he hadn’t already put enough, Geonhak starts to get concerned and decides he _has_ to intervene. So Geonhak reaches over and simply slaps the other man’s hand away from the sugar-poisoned drink.

  
  
  


“Yah—” Seoho goes to protest but Geonhak cuts him off.

  
  
  


“Seoho- _hyung_ , don’t you think that _maybe_ you’ve put enough sugar? Or even _too much_?”

  
  
  


Seoho opens his mouth to protest but then he looks down at his drink. Now, Geonhak doesn’t always listen to Seoho’s dorky rambles, but he can recall enough of this one specific time Seoho droned on and on about something about intaking too much sugar, which Geonhak had gotten the basic gist of ‘just don’t eat too much sugar or else your body will eventually get mad at you’.

He can see the range of emotions going over Seoho’s face visibly before the man’s mouth opens slightly as if he’s just realized what he’s done to his coffee.

  
  
  


“Oh.”

  
  
  


Geonhak snorts but it’s half-hearted. He reaches across the table and takes Seoho’s mug, pushing his own mug towards the man who gives him a confused look.

  
  
  


“You can have mine, I didn’t touch it yet,” Geonhak says.

  
  
  


Maybe he’s just tired out from the past few days and from his earlier crying, or maybe it’s the fact Seoho’s got this endearingly puzzled kitten look on his face that he can’t dare to ruin, but Geonhak is willing to be generous and abstain from making any sort of usual teasing comment.

  
  
  


"Geonhak," Seoho starts to say, voice kind of low like he's getting emotional, but then he says, "since your coffee's untouched and mine is, uh… _overly touched_ , we could just mix it together."

  
  
  


Geonhak blinks.

  
  
  


This time, it's _his_ turn to say, "Oh."

  
  
  


He… for some reason… hadn't thought of that. Seoho giggles, fingers coming up to cover his smile in amusement, and Geonhak feels his ears heat up from embarrassment.

(Probably just from embarrassment. Yeah.)

Seoho, cheeks reddening from his little giggling fit, calls over a waiter for another ceramic mug.

  
  
  


"I appreciate it though," Seoho comments after a while as he tries to balance out the coffee like he's conducting a science experiment. "It's… cute of you. I like it. But I’d like it more if you didn’t have to drink that heap of diabetes just for me."

  
  
  


"I'm not cute," Geonhak mumbles, trying to ignore the rest of what Seoho had said, but he feels his ears grow hotter.

( _Cute_ , the word reverberates in the back of his head.)

  
  
  


This time, it’s Seoho who ignores him, busying himself with carefully pouring out the overly sweet coffee and the overly bitter coffee. Geonhak thinks he sees the other man’s ears reddening too but he can’t really tell because Seoho’s bangs are longer than his. He’s probably mistaken, too. There’s no reason for Seoho to be embarrassed like Geonhak.

…Unless there’s another reason, another cause for the redness, but Geonhak is a fool, as per usual. He doesn’t think about it any further. For now, he’s just going to focus on Seoho and the evenly distributed coffee mugs and ignore the weird feeling that settles itself unwarranted in his stomach.

  
  


—

  
  
  


“You’re stupid.”

  
  
  


Geonhak hears Seoho mumble and he does a double take, processing the sudden jab rather slowly.

  
  
  


“ _Excuse me_?”

  
  
  


“You heard me,” Seoho says nonchalantly.

  
  
  


Somehow, they’ve transitioned from coffee (and the sandwiches they had ordered that Geonhak is currently yearning for again) to ice cream. As if they haven’t already had enough sugar and energy. Geonhak just knows he’s not going to be able to properly sleep tonight and that Seoho is probably going to be bouncing off the walls and nonstop talking about whatever intellectual information he knows. (He really, _really_ wants those sandwiches from earlier. Some salt again would be really nice right now.) They’ve also somehow ventured out far enough from the city that Geonhak finds himself sitting next to Seoho at a bench in the middle of a park across the city, approximately 25 or so minutes away from home.

Geonhak feels the corner of his lips twitch in annoyance and he resists the urge to slap the strawberry flavored dessert out of Seoho’s hands, and instead focuses on the plain vanilla that he had chosen for himself.

  
  
  


“Heard what? I didn’t hear anything,” he mumbles, but his response is a bit too late and can no longer be deemed clever.

  
  
  


Seoho shakes his head, and Geonhak can’t tell if it’s in amusement or as if he’s disappointed. He scrunches up his nose in annoyance and huffs, wiping at some melted ice cream that trickles down onto his fingers and groaning when it only leaves his fingers annoyingly sticky.

  
  
  


“Oh, you heard me nice and clearly,” Seoho snorts, but then his face drops a bit. “Okay, but Hak, you scared me, you know. You come back later than you had said and I start thinking you got yourself killed. And I’m not there to save your ass this time, so…”

  
  
  


“I’m fine,” Geonhak replies a bit too quickly. He pretends to pause for a moment to eat at his ice cream, but it feels like it’s too sweet. “I’m tough.”

  
  
  


“You blubbered on me earlier th—” Seoho tries to point out but Geonhak not-so-subtly shoves him, hard enough that Seoho has to juggle his ice cream in his arms.

  
  
  


Luckily, Seoho catches his strawberry ice cream. Unluckily, he had caught it _upside down_. He stares at his ice cream in dismay, the pink ice cream dripping onto his lap. Geonhak feels a sense of triumph but also a sense of guilt and he looks away so he doesn’t feel any guiltier, relishing in pestering the older man.

  
  
  


“You’re lucky I li…” Seoho mumbles under his breath, but Geonhak doesn’t catch the rest of it.

  
  
  


He simply smiles innocently, shrugging, but with the way Seoho just sighs and simply stands to toss away his ruined ice cream, Geonhak ends up feeling even more guilty.

At least though, he does have an idea. Geonhak, only recently despite being 21 now - or at least around there, it’s gotten a little confusing with all the time hopping - has realized that he is actually not as fond of sweets as he thought he used to be. Maybe as a child, the idea of sweets were appealing, but as he’s grown older, he doesn’t favor them as much anymore. And this applies to the ice cream in his hands that _hasn’t_ been ruined yet, the vanilla that feels like it’s a bit too sweet for him especially after the coffee (even though _that_ drink wasn’t painfully sweet, but again, he didn’t like coffee).

When Seoho sits down next to him again, he clears his throat awkwardly. And then he stiffly hands out his ice cream to Seoho, who just glances down in confusion.

  
  
  


“Huh?”

  
  
  


“Take it,” Geonhak mumbles. “I don’t want it anyway, it’s too sweet.”

  
  
  


Seoho stares a bit longer, as if trying to figure out if maybe Geonhak’s put something in there that shouldn’t be in there. He narrows his eyes in suspicion but then, reluctantly, he accepts Geonhak’s offer and gingerly takes the dessert from Geonhak’s hands. Their fingers brush together and Geonhak can’t help but notice the way Seoho stiffens up at the contact as if it’s the first time they’ve ever touched. And then, furthermore, Geonhak sees how Seoho has to look away and mumble yet another quiet comment to himself.

  
  
  


“It’s hard to trust you when you’re nice to me,” Seoho grumbles as if he’s an upset child.

  
  
  


“I can be nice to you,” Geonhak huffs. "I was nice to you earlier with the coffee."

  
  
  


“ _Yeah_ , sometimes I guess,” Seoho mutters, and a sudden dusting of pink starts to settle itself onto his cheeks. “But I can count those few times you're directly nice to me on my _fingers_ , and that says something.”

  
  
  


“Oh… sorry,” Geonhak finds himself apologizing.

  
  
  


He… does feel kind of bad. As if Seoho’s really upset. Seoho fidgets with Geonhak’s used spoon, looking conflicted - neither of them have ever cared for sharing food, it was just a thing they did, but for some reason, Seoho looked like he was kind of disturbed with the idea of using Geonhak’s spoon. He nibbles a little bit of the ice cream before the pink on his cheeks start to slowly fade into an even deeper rose.

  
  
  


“I don’t know why you’re sorry, it’s not like I’m nice to you either,” Seoho says, a smile forming on his face though it looks incredibly forced. “I guess it’s a fair trade, right?”

  
  
  
  


Geonhak hangs his head in shame, fiddling with his fingers. Wow, when did he get a cut on his left ring finger? That was never there before.

He swallows and leans his head back so that he’s staring up into the sky. It’s maybe four in the afternoon now, he and Seoho having spent time roaming the city for a few hours before they found themselves in that park with some ice cream. The weather is nice, though getting noticeably less warm as the seasons begin to dip into late autumn.

  
  
  


“I’ll be honest,” Geonhak says after a while of distracting himself. “I don’t think I have the right to be mean to you, _hyung_.”

  
  
  


Seoho freezes, halfway through the action of eating a proper spoonful of ice cream this time.

  
  
  


“What?”

  
  
  


Geonhak fidgets in his seat. _Wow._ This was even harder than he thought it would be to say.

  
  
  


“Look, this is… hard for me to say, but I really mean it when I say I actually... uh,” he pauses, pressing his lips together. “Well, I appreciate you. I guess. Yeah. I don’t know, I think I take you for granted, _hyung_ , you clothe me and feed me and let me just leech off of you for a couple months before I get bored and decide to move onto another year in the future. And you also help me with that too, because I still don’t know how to read these coordinates on my watch. Like, you’re over a thousand years old or so, you’re fully capable of kicking my ass in several hundred different ways and yet you don’t.”

  
  
  


Seoho, still frozen in the action of nearly eating another spoonful, slowly sets the ice cream and spoon down onto his lap. His forehead creases, Geonhak can see it through his bangs, as Seoho seems to process everything Geonhak’s just confessed.

  
  
  


“Most of the time,” Seoho says after a while, his face falling into a more calm expression before he _finally_ eats that spoonful of ice cream.

  
  
  


“Huh?”

  
  
  


“I don’t kick your ass _most_ of the time,” Seoho repeats.

  
  
  


_...Well_. That wasn’t what Geonhak was expecting for an answer. But he supposes he’ll take it, because Seoho hasn’t made fun of what he’s just admitted.

  
  
  


“But…” Seoho starts to say.

  
  
  


Geonhak looks up to meet Seoho’s eyes. Strangely, he feels queasy. And fuzzy. Or just weird, he just feels _very_ weird in general.

  
  
  


“Thanks,” Seoho continues softly. “I guess I can also say I’m… _God_ , I’m bad at this… I’m thankful for you too. I’m really bad at saying this but you take care of me in ways without you knowing it. I’ve lived so long but apparently I still can’t take care of myself right sometimes.”

  
  
  


Now Geonhak is even more surprised. This is even _more_ of a surprising response he’s just gotten. Seoho looks sheepish, breaking their eye contact to go watch some kids playing ball somewhere across from them.

  
  
  


“And… I’m, uh, not really good at talking,” Seoho says even quieter, but still with so much meaning that it makes Geonhak feel rather endeared. “But you can talk to me. I know it’s been a really long time for me, but it’s… you know, Lady Park… it’s so recent for you. And I know just how hard it is, so… I don’t know what I’m trying to say, sorry—”

  
  
  


“No, I—” Geonhak cuts in, getting flustered when Seoho looks at him again. “I, well, it’s fine. You’re fine. I mean, what you said is fine— I’m also not good at talking, I suppose.”

  
  
  


Something sparkles in Seoho’s eyes like he’s amused and the faintest of smiles tugs at his lips.

"We both do suck, yeah."

  
  
  
  


“Thanks though, _hyung_ ,” Geonhak continues, trying not to seem so embarrassed over all his stumbling. “I… don’t know if I need to talk about it, actually. I think I already know everything _she_ would want to say anyway.”

  
  
  


“She’d probably nag you for being sad over her, yeah,” Seoho says. “That’s just how she was, right? Just really optimistic despite all of the things she had been through.”

  
  
  


Geonhak nods, smiling slightly in a way that it mirrors the vague smile on Seoho’s face.

  
  
  


“We never really got to talk about her together, have we?” Geonhak asks. “For some reason we hated each other so much. I still don’t know why. I think I was jealous, but I have - well, had - I had no reason to be jealous. How childish of me, right?”

  
  
  


“You’re still a kid,” Seoho says coyly, setting aside the mostly finished ice cream onto the bench on the side away from Geonhak.

  
  
  


“I’m not—”

  
  
  


“You’re a _kid_ ,” Seoho says again. “I’ve lived, like, maybe 13 more lifetimes than you have, remember? You’re barely 20—”

  
  
  


“21—”

  
  
  


“Whatever, 21, so you’re still a kid.”

  
  
  
  


Geonhak groans. There’s no way he’s winning this.

  
  
  


‘Okay, fine, I get it, I’m a kid.”

  
  
  


Seoho smiles and sits up straight up in his seat, crossing his legs.

  
  
  


“But anyway, I… honestly, I was kind of jealous too. There’s this kid I’ve never seen before, he happens to be better looking than me, and also happens to be Lady Park’s adopted grandson like I was. So I was childish too, getting all jealous over something so miniscule, and _I_ don’t get an excuse when I’m this old,” Seoho says slowly, as if he’s disclosing the most private information there is.

  
  
  
  


“Well, my conclusion is that we were both stupid. We’re both _still_ stupid,” Geonhak laughs.

  
  
  


“You’re more stupid though,” Seoho argues, but he’s on the brink of laughing as well.

  
  
  


Geonhak pretends to gasp, lightly elbowing Seoho but it’s nothing more than just a brush that Seoho pretends has fatally wounded him. It’s dramatic, Seoho falling over onto his side (and also forgetting about the ice cream he’s just set down, which falls onto the sidewalk, discarded and forgotten, but no one notices). He’s clutching at his side like Geonhak has just stabbed him.

It’s the perfect opportunity, he thinks. His fingers are itching to move, ready as the plan formulates and settles in completely within his head, and then he’s launching himself forward with ready fingers that attack Seoho’s side with tickles.

Now, Geonhak has heard Seoho laugh before. And he has, also, painfully admitted that he rather likes it when Seoho laughs. But this time, for some reason, Seoho’s laugh hits his ears differently. He doesn’t really know, just like how he’s been incapable of deciphering these odd feelings he’s been feeling for a while now, but it doesn’t matter.

What matters now is that he’s got Seoho pinned and vulnerable.

And for once, Geonhak actually scores a point against Seoho with that mental scoreboard (that probably doesn't even have to apply anymore now that they're friends and not rivals).

  
  
  


—

  
  
  


Truthfully, Geonhak isn’t sure how he’s coping. Loss and grief are such weird things. Humans are such weird creatures. And unfortunately, Geonhak is human. But that’s just the way things are, he supposes. He has to move on and carry on. There isn’t anything else to do but continue marching forward.

(Since his stupid time travel watch doesn’t go back in time the he wants it to.

But he supposes that’s life. Things don’t always work the way you want it to. And, he also supposes, that Lady Park would not want him to be disheartened for long.)

It’s difficult, his mind still terribly and agonizingly caught up on Lady Park, but he knows better. She’s probably happy, up there watching, as he and Seoho finally acknowledge each other more as friends rather than rivals.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


_“Does that mean we’re friends?” Seoho says hesitantly, like it’s something forbidden that shouldn’t be said._

  
  
  


_Geonhak blinks. “Honestly, I’ve… been calling you my friend in my head for a while. Are we not friends…?”_

  
  
  


_“No! No, I’m,” Seoho sputters, looking uncharacteristically shocked. “I’m— I’m just not… used to it? Yeah. But you’re my friend. It’s not like I have anyone else anyway, right?”_

  
  
  


_“Please, I’m the best thing you could have,” Geonhak says proudly._

  
  
  


_He gets a punch to his chest as a response._

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The scenario replays in his head. It only happened hours ago. It’s nighttime, he’s in his room, and he’s not in that moment anymore. But it replays over and over in his head like Seoho’s stupid broken record (that he insists he doesn’t have to throw out because he can fix it).

_Friends? Finally,_ Geonhak thinks. He finally gets to call Seoho his friend. They’ve immediately defaulted back to bickering and teasing each other, but this time it doesn’t have the weight of when they were still enemies. He supposes they haven’t been enemies for _a while_ , and that they probably haven’t been enemies since Geonhak’s first and accidental time traveling through time.

_Friends._ It sounds nice, Geonhak thinks. He’s only befriended a few select people in his short life, including this mysterious man from the Joseon era that Geonhak still holds close to his heart even though the time travel watch inexplicably doesn’t want him to ever visit Joseon anymore. But calling Seoho his friend feels different.

He’s kind of concerned over how he likes it too much. Of course he enjoys making friends, forming bonds with people like Lady Park or that Joseon man or Miss Kang or with the children of the daycare or _so on_. But he feels giddy with the idea of Seoho being officially confirmed as his _friend_. For once, he was able to talk to Seoho comfortably about _anything_. He feels like whatever restrictions that had lingered from their childish past rivalry has finally fallen away. He had rambled on and on for hours with Seoho about anything and everything, all sorts of topics, and Geonhak feels like he's never talked this much in his entire life.

(It's weird how easily things can change in a matter of seconds. But, as per usual, that's just how life is sometimes.)

They had talked for hours, until the sun had set, until the moon had replaced the sun as the new witness to the strange dynamic _friendship_ between Geonhak and Seoho.

Lady Park would probably be laughing at him right now, is what Geonhak thinks. But that thought makes Geonhak feel better. Her death still sits painfully in her head but it feels lighter. But he just knows Lady Park would be absolutely pleased to have her two 'grandsons' finally getting along.

As Geonhak starts to doze off, feeling the way his mouth falls slack as sleep overtakes him, he can't help but find that not only does his grief feel lighter, he finds that his heart feels lighter as well.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ignore the way i'm all over the place as always 😔
> 
> also, i hit 35k words?? this is a really weird thing for me, i have so many unfinished ideas sitting in my google drive lol. so the fact i've made it this far is... surprising
> 
> ALSO just wanted to say i hope everyone's doing well! we're all in the middle of a pandemic so i imagine it's extremely hard for everyone, and in different ways for everyone. so i hope everything is okay!!


	10. 第十章

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god hi happy new year!! happy holidays y'all! guess who's alive again
> 
> so i forgot i existed and completely had no motivation, plus i had finals and well. now it's 2021 lol
> 
> this is a bunch of disorganized words again bc i struggle to stay on track with what i'm writing but i actually wrote something for once so that's great
> 
> not beta'd as per usual, all errors are mine!

* * *

_Geonhak sputters, dust flying up in his face, and he hears a familiar laugh come from somewhere in front of him._

  
  
  


_"My apologies, Geonhak," The man before him laughs, extending a hand out for Geonhak to take._

  
  
  


_"I doubt you're any bit sorry, I-geum_ -hyung _,” Geonhak says, but he’s laughing a bit as well, accepting the other man’s offer._

  
  
  


_I-geum simply smiles, that feline yet peaceful smile of his, and pulls the other man back onto his feet._

_Ever since Geonhak had accidentally run into I-geum - as Geonhak happens to apparently have a knack for falling face first in front of rather attractive strangers his age - he can’t help but notice something about I-geum every time. There's always been this strange air that resonates from I-geum, an air of_ nobility _, but it’s not something Geonhak doesn't really question it too much, for fear of maybe finding out something he shouldn’t know, and honestly, for fear of hurting his head with all the theorizing._

_It doesn't really matter anyway, because regardless of I-geum's background, Geonhak would say that this guy is his first same-aged friend (or close enough anyway, as he's 19, whereas I-geum is 23)._

_(He can't exactly consider himself friends with Seoho at the moment. It's more of a silent coexisting, a set of parallel lines simply existing together but never crossing. They're so quiet that he didn't even know about Seoho's name change until a month into residing in the now-scholar's home in Joseon._

_But it's not that it mattered anyway if they didn't talk. When they did, it only ended bitter and sarcastically._

_Which is fine, of course. Totally. It’s not something that bothers him. He has I-geum anyway.)_

  
  
  


_"So what's your little lesson for today?" Geonhak asks when he's brushed himself off, tailing the older man down the dirt path that leads to this isolated tree at the top of a hill._

  
  
  


_It’s their little meeting place, away from the rest of the world at this late hour of the night, where I-geum is free to ramble about whatever new thing he’s just learned about in lessons that he’s apparently taking._

_Before they make it to the top of the hill, I-geum reveals a set of neatly-tied scrolls from within his sleeves and grins, smiling so widely that his bright, round eyes of his shimmer in a way that sometimes makes him look younger than he really is._

  
  
  


_"You’ll see," I-geum says._

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


"Do you think we'll ever get this dumb watch to work properly?" Geonhak asks, although it's more of a question to himself than to Seoho.

  
  
  


He’s staring a bit too hard at the screen of his time traveling watch, even though he’s already done so too many times in the past. The thing is, no matter how hard Geonhak looks at it, he can’t fully wrap his head around how such a thing can really work. He’s been using it for about three years now - at least, in his own sense of time - but it’s just not something he can understand.

  
  
  


"Hm? Maybe," Seoho responds anyway, looking up from the worn-out book he's got grasped in his hands. "I'm pretty sure even if I read every book in the entire world, I wouldn't get the right answers. That thing is _way_ ahead of both of us."

  
  
  


"I _know_ , but I hate how selective it is. I just want it to work properly without any weird complicated restrictions," Geonhak grumbles. "And I kind of want to go back to Joseon. Just for visiting, I mean. There was someone I talked to a lot there."

  
  
  


Seoho snorts, and Geonhak practically stares daggers in the direction of the man.

  
  
  
  


"What, Geonhak, like you had any actual friends?”

  
  
  


"You didn't have any friends back then either!" Geonhak retorts.

  
  
  


“I _did_ ,” Seoho insists. “Some of the scholars at the palace liked me, at least before I had to leave.”

  
  
  


“Psh, it was probably just a courtesy thing,” Geonhak rolls his eyes. “Like how you’re supposed to be nice or else you end up jobless.”

  
  
  
  


Seoho laughs, but it’s kind of empty, and actually a bit brutal, like he’s threatening Geonhak. It’s also maybe a bit solemn, but Geonhak can't really tell, because of Seoho's expertise in covering up his true feelings. The immortal’s laughter dies down into some thoughtful hum, bouncing his foot to some silent beat before slipping an old grocery list into his book as a placeholder.

  
  
  


"Technology is still something I learn about everyday, but if you want, I can try figuring out how that watch works," Seoho offers, rather surprisingly serious as he looks at Geonhak directly. “Or at least, try to get some sort of idea, you know.”

  
  
  


"O-oh," Geonhak blinks, not expecting Seoho to actually offer something like that. "No, no it's fine, I was just wondering, _hyung_. You're probably right about this being too ahead of our time to figure out."

  
  
  


Humming a bit more, Seoho carefully closes his book, really slowly probably due to the fact the book is so aged that one wrong move will result in several page losses.

  
  
  


"I'll still do it anyway. I know how computers work, and those are kind of similar to the screen on that watch,” Seoho points out. “And I can research how wristwatches function. Oh, I wonder if there are actually any books about time travel...”

  
  
  


“Maybe, but they’re probably under the _fiction_ genre,” Geonhak jokes.

  
  
  


“Ya’ never know!”

  
  
  


Geonhak has heard that before. I-geum had said it so many times, talking about things that are supposed to be impossible and mythical, things that are unheard of. Because no one really ever knows if those things really are impossible or mythical.

Sighing, Geonhak’s eyes fall onto the high-tech watch. It’s like it senses his inner turmoil, little cyan lights giving a little performance as they dance around.

All he really hopes for is that I-geum is okay, back there in Joseon.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


_Cozying himself in the spot next to I-geum, who's taken his own usual seat underneath the tree shadowing over them, Geonhak briefly takes the time to look up at the full moon up in the sky that acts as their lamp. It's a spotlight casting brilliantly onto the two men, well-lit enough that Geonhak can very clearly see the writing on I-geum's scrolls as the other man unfurls them from their ties._

_(Unfortunately, he's only been trying to learn Hanja for three months, and his proficiency is nowhere near close to reading the characters fluently, so it’s not like he can really read it anyway.)_

  
  
  


_"Did you write all this?" Geonhak comments, leaning a bit closely to peek at the scroll. "It looks handwritten, unlike the printed scrolls you showed me before."_

  
  
  


_"I did, yes! They are more like my own personal notes, just not the sort of notes I take during my lessons, because the people around me will criticize me if they ever hear these ideas," I-geum sighs._

  
  
  


_The older man gingerly flattens out the scrolls on his lap before holding them up to the sky for the moon to look at._

  
  
  


_"So what ideas would those be?" Geonhak asks genuinely, struggling to follow along with the words written across the paper._

  
  
  


_"This might sound rather ridiculous," I-geum starts, "but... Geonhak, have you ever considered if one can be reborn after death? Imagine if after our passing, we are given another chance at life with no memory of our previous one."_

  
  
  


_It falls silent for a moment, quiet enough that Geonhak can even hear the breeze that tickles his neck. Proposing such a ‘bizarre’ idea, as if Geonhak is supposed to be surprised by it, makes him all the more scared that he_ isn’t _. If anything, he’s strongly reminded of immortality because of Seoho, even though whatever I-geum is talking about doesn’t really sound exactly like immortality._

  
  
  


_"W...what? Where did you come up with this?" He nervously questions._

  
  
  


_He tries to at least sound like he’s not judging I-geum, and I-geum, who looks like he had been worrying that Geonhak would criticize him, relaxes a bit._

  
  
  


_"There is a girl at the— at my home," I-geum explains, choosing his words carefully as he always does (which Geonhak has come to stop questioning). "She has been written off as mentally unstable, but I've spoken with her before and really, she is honestly just like everybody else. The only thing that supposedly makes her different, I guess, is that she speaks of memories that she hasn't experienced in this life, and after talking with her, I just couldn’t help but think... what if she_ had _been alive before, but in a past that she does not remember?"_

  
  
  


_It's a theory Geonhak has heard before, yes. He can easily recall the estranged elderly man who wandered the marketplace back home in Goryeo, how he'd try to preach his ideas that people would only write off as ridiculous. Geonhak had never bothered to listen for long but if he did remember correctly, the elderly man had also considered this same theory._

  
  
  


_"It would be a nice thought," Geonhak murmurs thoughtfully._

  
  
  


_"I don't have that many ideas as of currently, but I don't think it's that bizzare of a concept," I-geum says. "In this world, I believe anything is possible. You never know."_

  
  
  


_Ah, yes. Geonhak should be one of the people who knows this better than anyone._

_Geonhak, a young man who's accidentally become a time traveler through the means of a futuristic watch that fell out of the sky. Seoho, a young man who's actually lived for hundreds of years, never aging nor permanently dying, an endless being that walks the earth._

_Anything really is possible, Geonhak agrees, as he nods in agreement as I-geum continues on with his little lesson._

_You really never know._

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


"Hey _hyung_ , do you think there's a life after death?" Geonhak asks another day, maybe a few weeks after he had asked about the watch.

  
  
  


Seoho is too busy trying to flatten his bed hair, all of it sticking up like a broom.

(Geonhak has seen this scene many times, but it never fails to get any less funny. He had never expected that hair could be _that_ stubborn, and to see Seoho of all people struggle with it, it’s really something he can’t help but find some joy in.)

  
  
  


" _Hyung,_ just wet it," Geonhak snickers, and the immortal grunts in response before complying sleepily.

  
  
  


"What are you even asking this early in the morning?" Seoho mutters as he practically drenches his head with water.

  
  
  


"It was just a thought I had," Geonhak huffs. "But I’m serious, do you think people can be reborn after they die?"

  
  
  


"Dunno," Seoho says hoarsely, morning voice thick and deeper than his usual youthful chirp of a voice.

  
  
  


"Come on, just think about it, _hyung._ You have to get that tired brain working anyway, you have work, in like, an hour."

  
  
  


" _Maybe_ , Geonhak" Seoho hisses. "Gosh, I woke up less than twenty minutes ago. At least let me make some coffee."

  
  
  


"Gross," Geonhak says, crinkling his nose.

  
  
  


Seoho ignores him and makes a beeline from the bathroom to the kitchen. A towel is thrown haphazardly around his neck, and he's only got one eye open as he always does shortly after waking up.

In some ways... it's a little bit cute. It reminds Geonhak of the kids in Goryeo and of the kids at the daycare, how they'd wake up all disoriented and moody after a sound nap. If that wasn’t already a cute enough idea, one tiny tuft of Seoho's hair is still sticking up even though the man's literally soaked his head. It’s _cute_ , really damn cute, even the clumsiness is cute, as Geonhak's already watched him bump into four things around the kitchen.

(Well, not that Geonhak fares any better in the morning either. If anything, he's _worse_ , with Seoho having to wake him more than once. He's just lucky that this time he's the one awake first, because it gives him the opportunity to tease Seoho.)

  
  
  


"So reincarnation, huh?" Seoho finally says, standing sleepily as he waits for his coffee to brew.

  
  
  


"I think that was the word, yeah."

  
  
  


"I guess it's viable. I mean, if immortality exists, since ya' know, I'm a _product_ of it, and time traveling exists because _you_ and your watch exist, then reincarnation shouldn't be _that_ farfetched," Seoho yawns. "Why though? Where did this question even come from?"

  
  
  


"I was just wondering. I had that friend back in Joseon who talked a whole lot about a whole lot of things, and I just remember that one thing he brought up."

  
  
  


"Ah right, your imaginary friend," Seoho teases, a sluggish grin forming on his face.

  
  
  


"He's _not_ imaginary," Geonhak snaps. "I can assure you he was very much real. His name was Choi I-geum - I think that was his last name anyway - and he was 23, and—"

  
  
  


"Cool, cool," Seoho says, yawning once again. "Pass the sugar, will you?"

  
  
  


Geonhak sighs heavily in defeat and reaches for the decorative sugar container.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


_"I-geum-_ hyung _," Geonhak says one day._

  
  
  


_I-geum looks up from the bowl of noodles he's probably enjoying too much, eating like a child who hasn't been taught manners (which is rather odd, considering the fact I-geum has always felt like he's someone who's meant to be important)._

_The two men are tucked in a little corner of a shop, away from the rest of the customers eating inside, in their own little world._

  
  
  


_"Hm?" I-geum says, looking up obliviously._

  
  
  


_Geonhak resists the urge to fling a cloth at the man to clean his face, but he's always got this inkling that maybe I-geum isn't someone who gets a whole lot of freedom, seeing how he only appears at night every few weeks._

  
  
  


_"If I one day disappear, will you be okay?"_

  
  
  


_I-geum's face shifts into a look of concern. He slurps up the noodles that have been hanging from his mouth before politely patting at his lips with his sleeve._

  
  
  


_"You're behaving like something gravely terrible is going to happen to you, Geonhak."_

  
  
  


_"No, it's just," Geonhak pauses, "complicated. I don't know, I can't really explain it."_

  
  
  


_I-geum slowly nods as if he understands. Once again, Geonhak sees that distant look in I-geum’s eyes, something untelling that Geonhak is probably forbidden to know. I-geum has always been like that - strangely very open but also very reserved._

  
  
  


_"It's alright, Geonhak. I have my secrets as well, I'm sure you've long noticed it," I-geum says._

  
  
  


_It's the first time that the older man has addressed the mysterious vibe around him, and it makes Geonhak almost forget what he's trying to say._

  
  
  


_"I mean,” Geonhak begins again, “ just... if I happen to leave one day, will you be alright? I mean, I know I'm probably not your only friend, but... still."_

  
  
  


_I-geum takes a long sip of tea, his face more serious than he tends to be._

  
  
  


_"I will be okay, yes,” I-geum replies quietly. “Though I'm most definitely be concerned why you've suddenly vanished, you know. I would miss you an incredible amount."_

  
  
  


_Geonhak laughs weakly. He could stick around in Joseon forever, until he dies. He could continue meeting up with I-geum like this, bugging Seoho for the rest of his life._

_But he still wants to see more. It's a selfish ambition of his, but he doesn't want Joseon to be the only thing he's seen with this time traveling watch, when he's capable of seeing more. To have a watch like this feels like it’s permitting him to do more than he’s ever been able to in his life, and he wants an_ adventure _._

  
  
  


_"Frankly, however,” I-geum says, voice terribly soft and almost rather_ frail _. “I believe that one day I will have to be the one forced to leave first.”_

  
  
  


_Looking up, Geonhak stares at I-geum’s face, expecting the man to continue. He expects an explanation, a reiteration, just something to spell out what he means by what he had said. But the older man simply stares down at his bowl, a bit solemn, before returning to slurping up the contents._

_I-geum acts all jolly again after that, like nothing serious had happened, like he hadn’t just hinted that he would be the one to fade away first. Geonhak wants to question the older man, curiosity gnawing at his skin. He desperately wants that long-overdue expl But he knows there are things that he just isn’t meant to know._

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


"Hak, have you considered that you need to plan out your time travel trips better?" Seoho brings up one day.

  
  
  


Seoho, considering he's knowledgeable in many things and also has had far too much time to practice things, is _painting_. He's unexpectedly good, which shouldn't be unexpected at all, as he skillfully brushes and blends colors together into what's currently an unfinished sky scene.

  
  
  


"You mean like when I decide to see another timeframe in the future?"

  
  
  


"Yeah, sure. Because as far as I'm concerned, you are _terrible_ at planning, and impulsive at that too. That watch isn't very good with ‘impulsive’, you know. It wasn't really fun having you drop by here for a week, disappear for another week back to Goryeo, and then back here again," Seoho nags, though he doesn't look away from his painting.

  
  
  


"Sorry," Geonhak mumbles sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess we have to work out something else. I spent like two months in early Joseon and then two _years_ in late Joseon."

  
  
  


"No, that’s fine. I mean, being _flexible_ is fine, I don't care how long you stay around. It's not like you have to follow a very strictly set schedule. It's just I think we need to organize how you do things. You don't seem to be planning to go back to Goryeo anymore, anyway, right?" Seoho asks, and Geonhak nods in conformation. "Yeah, so I don't think there's much to fix anyway. Just no more impromptu trips like that one time, got it?"

  
  
  


"Not like I can just go anywhere if I wanted to anyway," Geonhak sighs. "This _thing_ —" He waves the wrist with the watch on it around, "—only lets me go back to one place in the past, and it's Goryeo. Also, that one week cooldown is really annoying, I would've been jumping around more frequently otherwise."

  
  
  


"Maybe a good thing, I feel like you'd break the universe or something if you were given the power to time jump wherever at any given second," Seoho snorts, glancing at Geonhak from the corner of his eye.

  
  
  


"If anything, I think you would be the one to break the universe if you were in my place," the time traveler teases. "You're the one who broke the frying pan last week."

  
  
  


"The screw was loose! That would be a fault of mass production and unlucky human error, not _my_ fault!"

  
  
  


"Okay, and what about the chair you broke you last month?"

  
  
  


"The wood simply couldn't handle my power," Seoho huffs. "I'm far too _amazing_ , you see, who wouldn't collapse in my presence?"

  
  
  


"Absolutely nobody would," Geonhak snorts. "I mean, neither of us stand out that much to the naked eye, you know."

  
  
  


Seoho mumbles something indistinct as he tends to. Geonhak knows that Seoho has ran out of things to say back.

  
  
  


"You made me mess up my painting," he groans.

  
  
  


"Your painting sucks anyway," Geonhak snickers.

  
  
  


An offended gasps sounds in the air and all Geonhak can do is laugh before a paint brush coated with black paint goes flying at him.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


_I-geum, as he had implied months ago, disappears one day. Geonhak thinks maybe the older man has to attend to something, but a week passes, and then another week, and then it’s yet another two months when Geonhak comes to terms with the fact that he’s never going to see his friend again._

_He feels kind of bitter, actually, as he sits alone at the top of what was their meeting place. It’s not because I-geum has left him without a warning, no, he understands that I-geum has his own reasons. Really, Geonhak is more bitter because he knows that I-geum at least yearned for some sort of freedom. The fact that the older man isn’t showing up anymore can only imply that he’s finally being made to conform to whatever, whoever, he’s supposed to be._

_Geonhak sighs and leans his head back against the tree. He’s never really questioned it too much, but he’s always wondered if maybe I-geum is royalty. But if the older man really is so, Geonhak supposes he isn’t meant to ever know this._

_Maybe I-geum just wanted to be ‘normal’ for a while._

_Standing up after a while, Geonhak feels like he’s kind of bored of Joseon now. I-geum, hopefully, will be okay - he said so himself._

_He carefully tucks the scroll that I-geum had given to him inside his_ hanbok _, close to his chest. It’s the one about reincarnation and such, which has since been updated with research of philosophers who have speculated the same thing._

  
  
  


_"Take care of that for me, will you?" I-geum had said._

  
  
  


_Geonhak takes a deep breath and nods, although no one except for the moon will see it anyway._

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“Would you be okay if I decided to time jump in maybe the next year or so?”

  
  
  


Seoho is in the process of slapping this plump watermelon at the market, and Geonhak briefly forgets about his question as he gives the other an incredulous look.

  
  
  


“Hey, don’t look at me like that! I heard it’s an effective method for knowing which watermelons are good,” Seoho argues, throwing his arms up in defense.

  
  
  


“I wasn't questioning you,” Geonhak snorts. "Openly."

  
  
  


“ _Also_ , I don’t care when you decide to time travel again, it’s your choice,” Seoho huffs. “What time frame are you thinking about anyway?”

  
  
  


“I’m not sure, maybe only like 60 years from now. I don’t want you to be alone for _that_ long.”

  
  
  


“Oh, how sweet of you,” Seoho coos, smiling sweetly before his face drops into a judgmental pout. “Except 60 years is still a hell of a long time, dude.”

  
  
  


“Better than the past few times I’ve time traveled,” Geonhak huffs. “Those were like more than 100 years of a gap. This is an improvement!”

  
  
  


“Fair enough,” Seoho mumbles. "Thank you for your consideration."

  
  
  


Maybe it’s that Geonhak is staring really hard at Seoho, but he thinks he sees the faintest flush spreading itself across the older man’s cheeks. It’s a peculiar reaction to what Geonhak’s talking about but he’s grown conditioned to how Seoho’s face seems to randomly redden at times. It probably doesn’t mean anything serious.

Probably.

Geonhak huffs to himself, readjusts the basket he’s got slung on his arm, and looks back at Seoho again.

  
  
  


“Wh— Seoho- _hyung_ , _please_ tell me you’re not about to slap that too.”

  
  
  


Seoho freezes, hand suspended just barely above an ample sack of rice priced a bit more expensive than the other rice brands.

"Is this another efficient method you heard of?” Geonhak snickers.

  
  
  


The dusting of pink on the immortal’s face immediately reddens even deeper.

  
  
  


“Oh shut up! Tell me it doesn’t look slappable!”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't really have a set plan for this story, so this is actually... like. really bad, and i have more ideas that i really want to write, but i wanna finish this first, so i just  
> i'll get somewhere i swear. maybe. aaaaah
> 
> oh i almost forgot!! thank you for almost 100 kudos and over 1200 hits lol i didn't think anyone would read my trash fire but here i am  
> (i wish i was better at writing but i'm at least glad people are reading! thank y'all ʕ´• ᴥ•̥`ʔ)


	11. 第十一章

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh hi i'm finally alive again i guess (i like how i start every new chapter with almost the same thing lol)
> 
> i finally got inspiration to work on this chapter (thank you so much by the way, you know who you are!) - and honestly i've had this sitting unfinished for like, a month?
> 
> i rewrote several attempts but they didn't feel right but i think i actually like this one,, it's kind of short but it's fine lol, hopefully my next chapter is actually longer this time since i have stuff planned for once (keywords: for once)
> 
> time flies by so fast that i didn't realize it's been 2 months since i last updated and um. whoops? i can't promise anything but i feel more inspired to keep this story going again so woooo!! hopefully y'all won't have to wait that long again
> 
> shoot i almost forgot but **warning** for mentions of (past) death, also some themes of anxiety
> 
> oh and -unbeta'd as always, by the way, so all errors are mine!

* * *

It’s not often that Seoho has nightmares. If he does happen to dream - which isn’t very often either - they’re often a disarray of his wildest thoughts, somehow clustered together to form the most bizarre storylines that don’t make sense in the slightest bit. When he wakes up, he barely remembers them. All he’s left with is just the slightest taste of what had happened, not a single bit of vivid imagery or idea of what he had just experienced.

Tonight is different.

Maybe it’s the fact that a year and a half has flown by like nothing, and that Geonhak has decided he’s going to leave tomorrow, that he’s going to _leave Seoho_ for a several decades again. Maybe it’s the fact that Seoho, as much as he refuses to admit it to even himself, he’s scared of returning back to his life of mundane isolation, even though he trusts Geonhak to come back to him again.

Whatever that's caused this nightmare, Seoho wakes up in a blur of sweat and panic and the sound of his heart pounding in his eardrums. For once, the remnants of his dream are as clear as day, lingering in the deepest depths of his mind. It takes him a moment to realize there are some tears streaming down his face too.

Death doesn’t bother him as much as it probably should. It should be terrifying to the average human. But of course, as an immortal who’s lived through far too many things in his life, Seoho is no average human. He’s died a few times, and has always come back afterwards. If anything, he's become rather desensitized to death. There's no use in fearing death all that much when you're guaranteed to always come back.

For some reason though, death bothers him a lot right now. He doesn’t remember which death of his this was - maybe the third? the fourth? he doesn’t keep count - but either way, Seoho’s hands are trembling in his lap. 

Squeezing his eyes shut only makes the scene play out in his head more clearly, so he opts for keeping his eyes open instead, eyes shaking and unfocused. The dream had been so vivid as if it were real, and the memory is just as vivid. If he had forgotten the details of that particular death, he certainly didn't now. How very considerate of his brain to remind him of all that had happened.

Maybe he should be grateful it's not one of his more gruesome deaths. Of course he has a few of those after his neverending longevity had somehow spilled to the public, making those who heard it horrified by his existence. But this specific death, he had been alone. It had been a simple mishap within his home, and to this day, Seoho actually still has no idea what he had wrongfully ingested. He just knows that among whatever he had consumed, one of them had ultimately led to the worst stomach ache of his life. And it should be known what happened next after that.

(Really, an embarrassing death if he were to think about it any other situation, but it felt more like a cruel mockery at the moment that he couldn’t laugh at it this time.)

Maybe Seoho’s just convinced himself that death doesn’t bother him only because it’s been a long time since he _has_ died. Maybe he’s been afraid of death all along but he’s just forgotten because he hasn’t died in a long while. With this nightmare of this lonesome death, all vivid and fresh as if it were recent, Seoho feels all shaken to the bone.

Seoho had been so alone then, and it’s exactly why this death bothered him more than his other deaths. This death had been just a few centuries before he had discovered Geonhak as a time traveler, during the time in his life where he felt most isolated. He remembers being all cold and grim and alone, and waking up to being just alone.

And then he's hit with the fact that he's going to be just as alone again.

He tries to take deep breaths - in and out, in and out - but each time, it just comes out like a hoarse croak, like that creaking floorboard he’s never gotten enough motivation to fix.

Seoho feels out of tune with his body, and oh, how he seriously hates when he gets like this. He's always convinced himself that he's all logic and reason, but being all logic and reason comes with the price of not knowing what to do with his emotions.

  
  
  


“ _Hyung?”_

  
  
  


Geonhak’s sleepy voice - deep and baritone as per usual, but a whole solid octave lower due to having apparently just woken up as well - startles Seoho so hard that he hiccups loudly.

He hurries to wipe the tear tracks on his face but when he meets Geonhak's eyes, he knows that it's too late and that Geonhak has already seen the tears clearly.

He hates it when Geonhak looks worried like this. He supposes friends are supposed to be worried for each other, but it still forms this heavy stone of guilt in the center of his stomach. It’s just the way that Geonhak is just too good, too caring, how easy it could’ve been for Geonhak to just pretend he never saw Seoho cry but here he is being worried anyway when he doesn’t have to be.

  
  
  


"I know what you're going to say," Seoho starts to say in defense of himself, and he hates how shaky his words come out. "And I promise I'll be fine. So don't worry about me."

  
  
  


Geonhak just stares at him with his eyebrows knitted together, and though his eyes are clearly still bleary, Seoho sees the worry only grow all the more.

  
  
  


"You'll be fine," Geonhak repeats slowly. "But that doesn't mean you're fine now."

  
  
  


Seoho's heard those words before. It's been a while since he's heard them, you know, eras and eras ago, but it still makes his heart ache in a way that makes Seoho curl into himself just a bit.

A hopeless romantic isn’t exactly what Seoho would call himself. He’s never really entertained himself with the idea of romantic love, at least not until recently. So maybe Seoho isn’t a hopeless romantic, but he’s a hopeless romantic for Geonhak and _only_ Geonhak. It’s probably what makes it so easy for Geonhak to see through Seoho so easily.

  
  
  


"Sometimes I hate how you're just so much like Lady Park," Seoho sighs, pulling his knees to his chest. "Those are words she probably would've told me too."

  
  
  


Instead of replying, Geonhak simply hums. Because he’s just woken up, it sounds almost like the low rumble that thunder would make, except it gives off more of the feeling of a cat’s purr. It makes Seoho feel like he’s lost in his head, still caught up in the remnants of his nightmare and now with the frustration of just how damn good Geonhak is, that he doesn’t notice Geonhak’s walked over to him until he feels the corner of his bed dip when Geonhak suddenly sits there.

It frustrates him just how mindful and considerate Geonhak is. He can tell that Geonhak is trying to keep his distance, respecting Seoho’s boundaries. Maybe Seoho is just biased, but Geonhak is just _too_ good, and Seoho's hit even more with the fact that he's going to be without this good man for a couple decades again.

A fresh set of tears start to prick at his eyes, and he doesn't have the will to wipe them away this time, so he just averts his gaze and looks away from where Geonhak's seated himself. He focuses his eyes on the pattern of his comforter, little vines and leaves decorating lavender fabric. He follows each curve of each vine, at least until his eyes fully blur over because it feels more like these vines are wrapping around him, confining him into this shell that he refuses to let himself out of.

  
  
  


"Look - maybe I am a bit like Lady Park, but I think you forget you're also just as much like her as I am. She never talked about things that bothered her. And you also do that," Geonhak comments quietly. “I wish you’d stop building a wall around yourself for once."

  
  
  


Seoho takes one particularly long breath. It feels like if he were to breathe properly, he’d shatter immediately, and so he takes his time inhaling and exhaling before he responds.

  
  
  


"I swear you're too observant for your own good, Geonhak," Seoho grumbles. “Which doesn’t make any sense, because I’m pretty sure you’re in desperate need of glasses.”

  
  
  


It's meant to come out as some sort of joke, but it ends up sounding more like an accusation than anything. Seoho wasn’t intending on sounding mean, and he immediately regrets speaking. But somehow, Geonhak doesn't seem disturbed at all by the remark. Instead, he just nods thoughtfully as if he's just been given an insightful piece of advice.

(Once again, Seoho is frustrated with just how good of a person Geonhak is.)

  
  
  


"You're not obligated to tell me your feelings, _hyung_ , but you don't always have to act like you're impenetrable," Geonhak says all seriously, staring right at Seoho even though Seoho isn’t looking back at him.

  
  
  


It makes Seoho want to laugh, and so he does, weak and half-hearted but still a laugh nonetheless.

  
  
  


"Geez, Hak, since when did you use such big words?”

  
  
  


The tears that are brimming in his eyes finally fall. Maybe Seoho can't verbalize it - putting his feelings into words has always been a difficult feat for him - but he hopes Geonhak understands what it means for Seoho to openly cry in front of him. Seoho never allows himself to cry in front of anyone, nor even in general, and to let himself do so in front of Geonhak, he hopes that Geonhak knows it means that he trusts him.

And Geonhak is smart, after all. Seoho openly crying is an invitation, and Geonhak takes it; albeit hesitantly, he scoots closer until he’s right next to Seoho. It feels touching at first, but then Seoho can’t suppress his laughter any further when he notes Geonhak’s sleepy appearance, hair tousled and eyes still half-closed.

  
  
  


“You look like a wreck,” Seoho laughs raspily, even despite his own state.

  
  
  


“We both do,” Geonhak mutters.

  
  
  


Seoho can’t help but consider the fact that instead of insulting him back, Geonhak just says that they both look like a wreck. It’s a true fact but it makes it seem like Geonhak is telling him that he’s not alone. Maybe it’s all in Seoho’s head, but he does feel a little better, and he playfully nudges Geonhak’s arm with his elbow.

For a while, they just sit there, quiet and half-awake and in each other’s presences. It’s not really as awkward as it should be, which Seoho is thankful for, but the inklings of his nightmare start to tickle at the back of his neck again the longer the silence grows.

Maybe Geonhak has some secret magical sixth sense that Seoho doesn’t know about (and it would honestly be perfectly possible considering the existence of immortals and time travel), but Geonhak seems to know that Seoho could use something to distract himself from this silence. Geonhak starts talking about random things, just useless talk, a mixture of harmless banter and bringing back old memories that they can laugh about. It makes Seoho mad again that he knows Geonhak is tired and that Geonhak doesn’t have to do this, and that he’s doing it all anyway, but Seoho can only feel his heart swell all the more.

Seventy years of being alone again is a long time, but Seoho’s been alone before for even longer, and he thinks - he thinks that if that’s all he has to wait until he sees Geonhak again, then he can do it.

And listening to Geonhak’s voice, talking non-stop - listening to Geonhak talk more than he’s ever talked in one go - Seoho thinks that even if he had to wait _forever_ , he would do it.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bless y'all for waiting for me lol, 2021 started and i just hit a slump and i felt like doing absolutely nothing but i think i'm getting back to it again-
> 
> hopefully
> 
> i love y'all btw, i hope everyone's doing okay!! thank you so much guys for reading, i still feel shocked that people read my stuff LOL, i'm really honored, seriously

**Author's Note:**

> thankyou for reading!! ₍ᐢ.ˬ.⑅ᐢ₎♡  
> 
> 
> [my art instagram](https://www.instagram.com/akihisae/)  
> [my twitter](https://www.twitter.com/ujihun_/)


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